


through the fire (to the limit, to the wall)

by okamiwind



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Defining the Relationship, Developing Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Strangers to Lovers, millennial angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-12-28 12:14:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 46,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21136541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okamiwind/pseuds/okamiwind
Summary: Sehun didn't expect to call Baekhyun, and he certainly didn't expect to fall head over heels for him without ever seeing his face.





	through the fire (to the limit, to the wall)

**Author's Note:**

> prompt no. 79 for the north wind and the sun, a sebaek fic fest.

Sehun meets him in a bar where the lights are down low, and he is spurred on by the distinct brand of courage that you can only derive from chugging Bud Light Limes. 

The summer drips along their skin, and the air conditioning is weak, so when Sehun stands close to him, their bodies stick together. It’s loud. There are too many people, and he rests his hand along Sehun’s chest, a hand on Sehun’s heart. He’s too beautiful, dark hair and dark eyes and a spirited little smile that holds so many promises, so many _what if_s. 

They’ve been talking for hours, so Sehun’s seen him devolve from put-together and sweet to drunk and a little slutty, pressed up against Sehun’s body even as his friends are dragging him away. He keys his number into Sehun’s phone, a kiss pressed to Sehun’s cheek. 

“Call me sometime, okay?” Minseok says, a little wicked glint in his eyes as he trails a clever hand along Sehun’s shoulder blade. He leans in, lips against Sehun’s ear as he whispers. “I wanna see you again.” 

“Okay, okay,” his friend says, dragging Minseok away. “He’s so fucked up, I swear he’s not normally so… forward.” 

The alcohol is going to Sehun’s head, to be sure, but there’s something hot in his stomach, unable to be contained, and he’s _glad_ Minseok was like this because Sehun has been needing something. He’s not sure what he needed, not sure if this was close to what he needed, but he can feel the death of the summer, can feel the warmth escaping him before he can close his hand around it. 

And maybe Minseok is that warmth. Maybe Sehun needs him. There’s something balanced about him, just the right amount of everything, and as Sehun watches him, arms slung around the shoulders of his friends as they walk sideways through the narrow exit of the bar, Sehun thinks that maybe there is something good about them. He’s never hit it off with someone right away like that. 

He turns, tries to find Chanyeol in the crowd, but he too is pressed up against someone now. Sehun bites a little grin, goes back to his drink, and wonders how soon is too soon to call.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Morning hits mean and hard, and Sehun can’t even swing back, arms too weak, head blaring with the pain of his hangover.

“I told you,” Chanyeol groans from the floor. “I told you it was a bad idea to get those picklebacks.” 

“I’m disgusting,” Sehun answers. “What more do you want from me?” 

“An apology. A handwritten note detailing your regret.” 

“_Dearest Chanyeol, it is with deepest sympathies that I proclaim my apology with utmost sincerity_,” Sehun says, and then he coughs with a heaving breath. “I’m too tired to try to be funny.” 

“You’re never funny, even when you try.” 

Sehun leans off the bed, glares at Chanyeol, who smiles up at Sehun sunnily. 

“Hate you,” Sehun says. 

“Love you.” 

They lie there for another little while, silent and stupid with the after effects of a night of heavy drinking. Sehun thinks about getting up to make eggs and bacon and toast, something greasy and buttery, but whenever he commands his body to move, it does not yield to him. He stares at the ceiling, the whipping blades of the fan, and he lets his eyes go fuzzy. It is only when Chanyeol interrupts the comforting silence that Sehun’s vision snaps to focus once more. 

“I saw you made a friend.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “He was cute, right?” 

“What, can you not remember?” Chanyeol says, and Sehun can hear the smile. 

Sehun takes one of his throw pillows, and he uses it for its named purpose, chucking it down at where Chanyeol lies with as much force as he can muster. Chanyeol yelps, and then the throw pillow is tossed into the air, back up to the edge of the bed. 

“Evil boy. Terrible boy,” Chanyeol says. “This is why you don’t meet handsome men. Well, except for last night.” 

“I remember, I just, you know, wanted to check,” Sehun says. “See what you thought of him.” 

“He was cool. Pretty funny, actually. And he seemed to like you, for whatever reason.” 

“_I’m cool!_” 

Chanyeol sits up, and he rests his chin on the edge of Sehun’s bed. His hair is a riotous mess, sticking up in a goofy way that makes Sehun snort. 

“You’re about as cool as… well, I can’t think of anything. I think I might still be drunk,” Chanyeol says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

Sehun rolls his eyes, and he sits up straight, stretching up towards the ceiling. He stares at Chanyeol for a minute, blank-faced, before he gets off the bed, heads towards the kitchen. 

“Where are you going?” Chanyeol calls. 

“Food,” Sehun calls back.

“_Food_,” Chanyeol moans. 

Sehun smiles to himself as he walks to the refrigerator, and when he looks at his phone, he clicks on _Contacts_, and he scrolls down to where _minseokkieeee_ is listed. He stares at it for a minute, aiming a ridiculous smile down at the display. 

Chanyeol hooks his chin over Sehun’s shoulder, hands on Sehun’s waist. He quickly lowers his phone, but Chanyeol’s already caught him in the act. 

“Go sit down,” Sehun tells him. 

“_Someone’s in love_,” Chanyeol sings. 

“Sit down if you want food.” 

He starts to rummage through his fridge, gathering up everything he needs. Cheese would be good. He needs some cheese. He grabs everything in his arms, lays it out on the countertop, grabs the frying pan from where it hangs on the wall. He can feel Chanyeol’s eyes on him as he moves, but he dutifully ignores him, laying strips of bacon down in the pan to hear the pleasant little sizzle. 

“When are you planning on texting him?” Chanyeol asks. 

“None of your beeswax,” Sehun answers. 

“I didn’t know we were in grade school.” 

“Yeah, well, U-G-L-Y, you ain’t got no alibi,” Sehun sighs. 

“I will walk out,” Chanyeol threatens. 

“Please do.” 

“Aww,” Chanyeol says, slumping down onto the table. “You don’t mean that.” 

“Wanna bet?” 

“Yeah, you love me.” 

Secretly, Sehun thinks, yes. But as he flips the bacon, Chanyeol whining for coffee as he does so, he thinks about what he might say to Minseok when he gets the chance.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It seems too early to text on the weekend, so Sehun busies himself with chores. He does his laundry, meal preps for the week, works out, cleans the apartment top to bottom. If he stops and thinks for too long, he thinks about Minseok’s charming smile, the way his touch felt striping Sehun’s chest. He guesses it’s been too long since he’s felt someone else’s hands on him, too long since he’s felt something like _affection_ from anyone besides Chanyeol.

And friends are good, friends are great. But Sehun… Sehun is vaguely unfulfilled, though he supposes that’s part of being a millennial. 

He likes to pretend. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone there for you all the time? Wouldn’t it be good to have someone to depend on, someone who could depend on you in turn? He’s a monogamist at heart, and he thinks he wants to have someone there. To have someone special. 

Monday, he thinks, after work… maybe he’ll call. Maybe they’ll… maybe they’ll make plans. There are so many maybes in his head now. Surely, at least _one_ of them will turn into something more.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He doesn’t have much time to fuck around at work, which is both a good thing and a bad thing. The bad thing is, of course, that he’s up to his fucking ears in stress, that he can’t really take a breather unless it’s during his lunch break, that sometimes he’s working so hard that he feels like crying. The good thing is that he doesn’t have time to stress himself out over Minseok. He’s already stressed out over work; there’s no room left for _more_ stress.

Sehun kicks his shoes off after he’s locked the door, and then he immediately pulls his pants off. He tosses them in the general direction of his bedroom, and he goes to the kitchen, grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. He stands there in his briefs and his socks and his collared shirt and his blue tie that has little white flowers on it, and he drains half the water bottle in one go. It’s too fucking hot in the city, and public transportation doesn’t help matters. Sehun only wishes people knew how to use deodorant. 

He debates on whether to eat or shower first, but he feels gross, a thick film of summer sweat on his skin, so after he’s crushed his water bottle, throwing the little plastic disk into the recyclables, he goes to the bathroom and turns the water on. 

He strips out of his remaining clothes and immediately steps into the cold spray of the water. It’s bracing, and he sighs as it washes away the heat. The chill slips down his spine pleasantly, and he washes his hair quickly, soaps himself up efficiently. He tries not to imagine someone beside him, slick skin against slick skin, because he certainly doesn’t need that type of energy going into a conversation with a prospective… _someone_. The cold water helps to stem the tide of arousal as he rinses himself off before shutting off the water, watching what’s left swirl down the drain. 

Sehun dries himself off, wrapping the towel around his waist as he heads into the bedroom. He dresses himself in sweats, sitting on the couch with his little tray of meal-prepped food: lemon-roasted salmon, broccoli, and sweet potatoes. Chanyeol is good about forwarding him the tasty stuff as they’ve got a similar palate. He eats, watches _Jeopardy!_ and _Wheel of Fortune_, and then thinks _no better time than the present_. 

There’s something too intimate about laying down in his bed to talk, but he does it anyway, finger hovering over the green phone icon before swallowing his spit and tapping the button. 

He holds the phone to his ear as it rings, rings, rings, and then finally, the line picks up. 

“Hello?” 

Something strikes Sehun as off almost immediately. He was drunk, for sure, but he doesn’t remember Minseok’s voice sounding quite like this. Minseok’s voice was light, airy, and this voice… this voice has a bit more power behind it. Still light, still soft, but… something else is there. Something fierce.

“Hello?” Sehun says. “Is this Minseok?” 

There is a pause, a weighted pause, and Sehun waits patiently for the response that he knows is coming. 

“No,” the voice says. “No, this isn’t Minseok.” 

“Oh,” Sehun says, his heart sinking. “I’m sorry, I… I must have gotten the wrong number, I’m sorry, I’ll—” 

“No, it’s okay,” the voice says hurriedly. “Don’t go.” 

Sehun furrows his brow. 

“What?” 

“Don’t go,” the man says. “I’m… I’m, like, losing my fucking mind. God, holy shit, I’m sorry, I dunno what I’m saying right now. Like, I know this sounds crazy, but like, do you believe in fate or whatever?” 

“Fate?” 

“Yeah,” the man says. “Like, destiny?” 

“I dunno,” Sehun says. “I never really thought about it.” 

“You’ve never thought about fate?” 

Sehun cuddles up in his blankets, settles in. 

“Not really,” he says. “Should I? Be thinking about fate?” 

“I dunno if you _should_, I just thought everyone _did_.” There is a little laugh. “Not much of a deep thinker, are you?” 

“Hey,” Sehun says, offended, “I can hang up at any point, you know.” 

“Oh my god, you’re right. Fate is fake.” There is a shuffling sound, like papers, and then a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m just in a mood.” 

“Oh? Why’s that?” 

“I have a job interview tomorrow,” he says. “A nice, big job that pays so much more than what I’m making now, and I’m actually _qualified_ for it, and I just _really_ fucking want, and I’m just like… how am I gonna react if I don’t get it, you know? I was literally just sitting here thinking, like, God, I really need someone to talk to, and then… here you are.”

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Uh, here I am.” 

“Is this weird? Is this, like, super creepy?” 

“It’s a little weird,” Sehun admits. “But I wouldn’t say it’s creepy. Maybe… maybe it would be less weird if I knew your name.” 

“Oh my god, I’m the worst. I can’t believe I didn’t even introduce myself,” he says. “I’m Baekhyun.” 

“Nice to meet you. Well, sort of.” 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, and Sehun can imagine the smile on his face as he says it. “Sort of.” 

“Oh,” Sehun says. “I’m Sehun. I guess… now we aren’t total strangers anymore.” 

“Less weird?” 

“Less,” Sehun agrees. “Is this, like, helping your interview-related anxiety?” 

“Well, it _was_,” Baekhyun says. “Before you went and brought it up again.” 

Sehun laughs, amused, and he feels like… he doesn’t know, like maybe this _was_ fate. He doesn’t know if Minseok gave him a fake number on purpose, if he… if he made a mistake typing in his number. But what are the odds that he managed to connect with someone who needed his help? Who wanted someone to reach out to him? 

“Sorry,” Sehun smiles. “I won’t bring it up again. Unless it would help to talk about it.” 

“I dunno.” He sounds easily agitated, and Sehun can relate. “I think maybe I just needed a distraction from it. I’ve prepared all I can now, and all I can do is hope for the best.” 

“And get a good night’s sleep,” Sehun offers. 

“Yeah, right,” Baekhyun says. “Like that’s gonna happen.” 

“Well, you should at least try.” 

He crosses one leg over the other in bed, closes his eyes, and feels a strange calm sweep over him. This isn’t Minseok, but maybe he’s just as good. 

“How do you suggest I do that? Huh, smart guy?”

“I dunno,” Sehun says. “Maybe, like, a bath?” 

“I got a shower,” Baekhyun says. “Next?” 

“A cup of tea?” 

“I only drink coffee.” 

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” Sehun says. 

“Shut up, caffeine is very fortunate,” Baekhyun argues.

“Not when you’re trying to relax.” 

There is a pause, and Sehun finds himself smiling, his mouth starting to ache from smiling so much. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Baekhyun sighs. “Sorry, I’m being a brat.” 

“No, you’re… well, a little,” Sehun admits. 

Baekhyun laughs, and it is a sharp little thing, easy to slice yourself on, and Sehun knows he should be careful with it. Knows that, while he could easily fall head over heels for something like this, he also knows he shouldn’t take something like this for granted. After all, when will he get the chance again? Probably not for a while. He should revel in it. He’s got nothing to lose. 

“Is that what you normally do for stress?” Baekhyun asks. “Take a bath and drink a cup of tea? How old are you, huh? You sound like an old woman.” 

Sehun smiles again, and he rubs his cheek with his free hand to coax away some of the tension. “You’re being mean. I could hang up right now.” It is, of course, an empty threat because he has found something special here. He can feel it. 

“Don’t!” Baekhyun squawks. “Don’t, don’t. I’ll be good. I promise.” 

“Good,” Sehun says. “And I’m twenty-four. In case that was a legitimate question, I mean.” 

Baekhyun moans, the kind usually uttered by a beleaguered woman, the back of her hand resting on her forehead. 

“Oh my god, you’re _twenty-four_. I’m an old hag.” 

Sehun finds the turn of phrase particularly funny, lets out a little shriek of a laugh, and Baekhyun echoes it in jest. It only makes Sehun laugh harder, but Baekhyun’s mocking turns into a genuine laugh. It’s fun, it’s… it’s relaxing after a long day, and Sehun can already feel himself sinking into it. 

“How old are you?” Sehun asks. “You don’t _sound_ old.” 

“As if you can _sound old_.” 

“You can! If you were on the phone with an old person, wouldn’t you be able to tell?” 

“Yes, of course,” Baekhyun says, and it sounds like he’s rolled his eyes, which Sehun likes. “But I don’t mean _old_ old. I mean old as in _the best of my youth has passed me by_ old.” 

“Oh. Well, you should be more specific.” 

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” 

“Someone else needs the landline.” 

“Okay, okay,” Baekhyun says. “I’m twenty-seven, by the way.” 

“That’s not _old_,” Sehun argues. 

“Yes, it is. It’s old enough to… I don’t know, to know what I’m _doing_. I should be settled, not running around looking for another job like a chicken with its head cut off. I mean, I should be… I should be happy by now, shouldn’t I?” 

It is an incredibly vulnerable moment to share with a stranger, and Sehun stares at his ceiling as if it is the night sky, empty of light. 

“Is that the sort of thing that has, like, a time frame?” 

“I always thought so,” Baekhyun says, his voice little more than a whisper.

"I dunno," Sehun says. "I think… I think everyone thinks that you have to have things done in a certain order and within a certain time frame, but it doesn't always work out that way. And that's okay, you know? It's okay to not always have everything together." He breathes deeply, talking to himself for a moment. "It's okay to… to be by yourself for a while until you find someone. It's okay to want to move onto something bigger and better, but not be able to at the moment. It's okay to have to do things out of order."

"Y-Yeah," Baekhyun says shakily. "It's just…"

"Just?"

"Just I always liked the order," he admits. "I liked checking off goals, you know? And I thought the job I was in, like, I thought that would be it. For life."

"Jesus," Sehun says. "For life?"

"Yeah. I just… I like the security, you know?"

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I get it."

There is a sigh that rings through towers and rests along Sehun's ear, shivers down his spine.

"When I realized I didn't want to do this anymore," Baekhyun says, "it was jarring."

"I can imagine."

Sehun doesn't particularly _love_ his job, but what would it feel like to get so sick of it that he literally couldn't stay any longer? Is Baekhyun claustrophobic that way?

"When I got the call for this interview, I was so excited," Baekhyun says, and his voice is so soft, so gentle, that Sehun thinks it could be snapped cleanly in two like balsa wood. "And now, all I can think about is the ways that I'm going to fuck it up."

"You won't," Sehun says. "I know you won't."

"You don't know me." He laughs shortly, sharply. "You don't know anything about me."

It makes Sehun a bit indignant, like he wants to prove himself. To an almost perfect stranger. What is it about Baekhyun? Sehun doesn't know, but he knows that he likes it.

"I know your name," Sehun says. "I know how old you are."

"Great, you want my social?" Baekhyun jabs. "You can steal my identity while we're at it."

Sehun ignores it, carries on without him.

"I know you're tenacious," he says. "I know you're going out and getting what you want."

"Shut up," Baekhyun says, but it's in that pleased way that means _No, please, I couldn't eat another bite. Oh, maybe just one more._

"I know that you're on the right track," Sehun tells him. "And that it doesn't matter what order you do things in. I know that you'll get where you wanna go eventually."

"Eventually," Baekhyun scoffs. "I hate that word."

"Yeah." He smiles. "You're sort of impatient."

"Oh, now you think you know me, huh?"

"Yeah," Sehun says. "A little."

Together, they share a comfortable silence, the kind that shouldn't be possible between two relative strangers. But Sehun takes it graciously anyway, pretends for a moment that they are more than strangers, that they are friends, perhaps on their way to more than that.

"Tell me somethin' about you," Baekhyun says quietly.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Tell me a story about when you were young."

"How young?"

"_Baby_ young," Baekhyun says. "Li'l tyke young."

"Hm." He scans his memories for a while before he lands on an anecdote he likes. "My family and I used to go to our friend's house for Fourth of July stuff because they had a pool, right?"

"Right?"

Sehun can picture it so clearly in his head, the smell of sunscreen and chlorine, of ice cream and charcoal briquettes.

"So, we get there, and there's a big party. Like, tons of people. And I'm like, I dunno, probably three or four?"

"Yeah, with your little life preservers and such," Baekhyun says, and Sehun can easily picture the smile.

"Right." Sehun smiles back. "So they set up a little kid pool for me and three of the other little kids. And we're just having a good time, you know, as kids do."

"The very nature of kids."

"So it hits me."

"What hits you?" Baekhyun asks.

"I have to pee."

"Oh no," Baekhyun says. "Oh no, no, no."

"But I don't wanna have to go inside, because that means I'll have to dry off and everything."

"No, _no, no, no, no._"

"So instead of doing that—"

"_No, Sehun, no._"

"I just get out of the pool, and I pee in the yard."

"I have to hang up," Baekhyun groans. "I literally have to go."

"That's what I kept saying."

"I _hate_ you. What kind of _story_ is that?" Baekhyun asks.

"I don't know, you were the one who asked for a li'l tyke story," Sehun says. "There it is."

"Public urination…"

"It's cute when it's a kid," Sehun says.

"Yeah," Baekhyun agrees. "Yeah, you're right. Cute when it's a kid."

"What about you?" Sehun asks. "Tell me something about you."

"What do you wanna know?"

_Everything_, he thinks.

"Maybe just… maybe just something no one else knows," Sehun says.

"What are we, twelve?"

"Fine, fine," Sehun says. "If you wanna be mean about it…"

"No, it's fine," Baekhyun says. "Huh. Something no one else knows."

"Like, a secret," Sehun says.

"Yeah, I got it." There is a pregnant pause, the type that stretches on. The kind Sehun wants to prod with his finger. But he doesn't have to wait very long, because just as soon as he decides that he wants to say something, Baekhyun groans. "I can't think of anything."

"I'm sure you've got _something_."

"No," Baekhyun says. "I'm fucking boring."

"I sincerely doubt that," Sehun laughs. "At the very least, I've been thoroughly entertained through this entire conversation."

"Yeah? Heartening."

It's bratty, and Sehun is learning that that's a foundation of Baekhyun's character, snippy and snarky and then, buried deep down underneath, softer than a fuckin' marshmallow.

"Come on," Sehun needles. "Anything. Just a little secret will do."

"Fine, fine," Baekhyun says. "I've, uh, I've never…"

"Never what?"

"Never been in a relationship before," Baekhyun admits. "Happy?"

"Oh," Sehun says. "Well… I don't know if I'm _happy_—"

Baekhyun laughs sharply, pinpricks against Sehun's skin, and it is so very satisfying to hear it.

"Shut up," Baekhyun says. "You think you're better than me, huh?"

"No," Sehun says. "I mean, it's been a while since I was in a relationship."

"We're a regular lonely hearts club."

"At least there's two of us," Sehun says. "Isn't there some solace in that?"

"Yeah, I guess so." Sehun hears rustling, and then a sigh. "Sorry, is it… is it, like, super weird if I get in bed right now?"

"No, uh, or if it is weird, then I am also weird. I’ve been in bed the whole time."

"Good," Baekhyun says. "My fucking back is killing me."

Sehun bites back two comments, the former being a comment on age and the second being a dirty joke that is a bit too much for new friends. Friends, he thinks, is that what they could be? Maybe this will all end soon. Maybe the lonely hearts club goes their separate ways, becomes that much lonelier. 

"You're doing a lot of thinking over there," Baekhyun says.

"Yeah, I guess."

"What are you thinking about?"

"Should I be honest?"

"Yeah," Baekhyun says. "Always tell me the truth, boy scout."

It's a goofy little sentence, but Sehun takes it to heart.

"I just… I'm kind of happy I called you," Sehun says.

"I'm happy you called me,, too," Baekhyun says. And Sehun wonders what he looks like, wonders if maybe he would fall straight in love with Baekhyun the first time he saw his face. "Oh!"

"Oh?" Sehun asks.

"I meant to ask: who were you trying to call?"

Sehun thinks back to Minseok, to his hands on Sehun's body, to his smile, to the way he smiled up at Sehun. It was tempting, all of it was, but—

"It doesn't matter," Sehun says.

Baekhyun scoffs. "Was it a girl?"

"No," and he doesn't know how to say _That's not what I'm interested in,, anyway._ So he doesn't say anything at all.

"Are you sure you don't mind, like, talking to me?" Baekhyun asks. "I could… I mean, I could call someone else, I was just thinking like, hey, we're having this little connection, and—"

"Don't call anyone else," Sehun says. "I mean… I mean, this is fine, right?"

"Yeah. Totally fine."

"Then we can keep talking."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sehun offers. "As long as you want."

There is a happy little sound that pours out of the speaker, and Sehun would spend a while in it if he could.

"Okay," Baekhyun says. "Hope you're okay with talking until I fall asleep."

"Yeah," Sehun says. "That doesn't sound too bad."  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
In the morning, his alarm slaps him awake in the worst way, and there is an ache behind his eyes. Quickly, he dismisses his alarm, grumbles out his discontent, and after several minutes of staring at the ceiling aimlessly, he checks the time. _6:04 A.M._ He swipes through his phone to the _Recents_ log, and when he sees _minseokkieeee_, his face immediately breaks into a smile.

He taps the information button, smiling going wider when he sees the duration: _ 5 hours, 13 minutes._

Sehun hasn't spent so long on the phone since he was a teenager with his first girl he was trying to pretend to like, and they didn't do _half_ as much talking as he and Baekhyun did. They fell into… into something of a friendship over the course of those several hours, and though Sehun doesn't know where it’ll lead, it was certainly a night to remember.

_"If you had to pick, would you rather be trampled to death or drawn and quartered?"_

_"What kind of quiz is this?" Sehun asked, brow furrowed._

_"The kind of quiz _I _like," Baekhyun said, altogether very proud of himself. "Not one of those _lame_ quizzes that _you_ like."_

_"I like normal quizzes," Sehun sighed. "This Sundae Quiz Will Reveal When You'll Get Married, Take This Color Test And We'll Reveal Your Moral Alignment… that sort of thing."_

_"Lame," Baekhyun answered. "Trampled or drawn and quartered? Stop avoiding the question."_

_"Well, I guess if I had to pick, I'd go trampled," Sehun said._

_"Smart," Baekhyun said. "Very smart._

The clips of their conversation flash in his head, and for a moment, Sehun can barely contain the joy that leaps into his stomach. He laughs, sharply, just like Baekhyun, and he stares at the ceiling, trying to imagine Baekhyun's face. He must be ugly. There's no way someone could be so funny without also being ugly.

Sehun doesn't mind, he decides. Ugly or not, he likes Baekhyun. Likes him a lot.

His finger hovers over Baekhyun's contact information, incorrectly labeled, for a minute as he thinks about where to go from here. He thinks about perhaps sending a good luck text, something to wish Baekhyun well on his way to his interview.

He checks the time. _6:16 A.M._

Maybe later.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He's riding the train on his way to work, head lolling against the window periodically as he tries to stay awake. He hasn't slept so little in a long time, but it was worth it. While he might be exhausted, he's never been so… optimistic? Something about Baekhyun, he thinks. Just something about him.

He sweeps through his phone, and he stares at the name that does not fit the number. He hesitates, thinking that if he changes the name, he will have to admit it to himself that he wants to prolong the relationship. That he wants it to develop into something more. He delays, a minute and then a minute more, before deciding that it really doesn't matter. These types of things mean much more in your head than they do in reality.

He backspaces, _minseokkieeee_ going to _minseo_ going to _mi_ before it's gone. And then, in the blank space, Sehun types out _Baekhyun_, and he adds a little smiling emoji next to it.

_Hey,_ he writes, fingers shaking as he types, _break a leg today. I hope you get what you're looking for._

It is only a few moments before the dot dot dot appears, and Sehun's heart is in his throat because _dot dot dot_’s breed that sort of apprehension. 

_break a leg????_, Baekhyun types back. _you want me to be hobbled as well as unemployed? some friend you are!!!! motherfucker!!!!_

Sehun smiles, tries to quickly fire back a clever response. 

Over the course of his twenty minute ride, he does not find himself bored. Certainly not.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
There is so much possibility for the two of them, but Sehun makes himself promise that he will not look _desperate_ over this. In the past, in many of his relationships, he has been the eager one. The one ready to confess. The one ready to love quicker than the other. He has always been the one taken advantage of, the one to give more. At the close of relationships, he is often covered with the greasy film of pity, the kind that leaves someone saying _It's not you, it's me_, even though it is clearly, obviously _him_.

Sehun has too much love to give, and no one to take any of it. And while that may be true, he makes himself promise all the same. No desperation. Bachelors can smell it on you the way dogs can smell fear.

He puts Baekhyun as far from his head as he can manage throughout the workday, claim after claim pouring in, despite the fact that he should only be getting ten in the average day. A girl in his unit is out for the week on vacation and another came down with the stomach flu, so his workload adjusts accordingly.

By the end of it, he is so tired of speaking to people that he's just ready for bed. He gets on the train, the quiet car up at the front, and he leans his head against the window again, shutting his eyes.

The stops tick by slowly, and he doesn't bother opening his eyes for the first five. It is then, of course, that his phone goes off, the ringtone blaring loudly.

The rest of the car glares at him, and he scrambles to flip the switch at the side, sending it back to silent mode. He is about to hit _ignore_ when he sees who is calling.

He grabs his bag, and he navigates through the mass of humanity in the quiet car, struggling to pass back through to the second car. When he finally makes it, the phone is thankfully still ringing and he nearly gasps as he answers.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Baekhyun says. "Hi, oh my god, hi. Is this weird? This is totally fucking weird, right?"

Sehun can hear the distant honking of horns, the chatter and laughter of people in the back. He tries to place Baekhyun in his head. A busy corner? A coffee shop? He can't decide.

"No," Sehun says, relieved that he didn't have to be the one to reach out again. "It's not weird at all. How—"

"How did it go?" Baekhyun interrupts. "It went fucking awesome."

A thrill of joy runs through Sehun's stomach unbidden, and a smile breaks onto his face.

"Yeah? That's great. I'm proud of you. Did you just get out?"

"_Yes_," Baekhyun groans. "I was literally in interviews from eleven on. One with two of the team managers, one with a supervisor, and one with the literal vice president of the company."

"Jesus," Sehun says. "Tough company, huh?"

"Literally. But the 401(k)…"

He sighs wistfully as if he is talking about swimming pools and movie stars, and even that is enough to make Sehun chuckle out into the huddle of his own body, his free hand holding onto a pole.

"You think you got it?" he asks.

"I dunno," Baekhyun says. "I hope so."

"You said it went well," Sehun says. "Did they say anything—"

"Just that they'd contact me," Baekhyun says. "Which, like, if you don't, you wasted my whole day and then ghosted me, and I will _come_ for you."

"Yeah, seriously. Well, still, if they don't get in contact…"

"Check up, yeah, yeah, I know," Baekhyun says with a groan. "Like I'm four years old."

"Four-year-olds don't interview for positions with _advisor_ in the title," Sehun says. 

"Or interview at all."

"I guess that is true."

There is a companionable silence, and Sehun listens to Baekhyun breathe, nearly lulled to sleep by the sound, by the heavy city noise that acts as background music.

"You still there?" Baekhyun asks softly.

"Yeah," Sehun says. "Still there."

"Sorry," Baekhyun says, and he sounds in a tizzy, like he's throwing himself into a hurricane of thought. "I just realized that, like, this is completely stupid."

"It's not stupid." Sehun stands up a little bit straighter. "Or at least I don't think it's stupid."

"Really?"

"Really," Sehun says. "I was wondering anyway."

"Were you?" Baekhyun asks. "That's so sweet."

Sehun bites his lip. "Shut up."

"No."

"All right," Sehun says. "Fine."

There is more quiet, but Sehun does not mind it at all, vaguely comforted by the fact that there is someone on the end of the line. Perhaps Baekhyun is struggling for something to say. Perhaps he is trying desperately to find something to talk about… but it doesn't feel that way. Already, it feels as though they have settled into the kind of thing that requires no real upkeep, just a gentle dusting with your fingertips.

"What are you up to?" Baekhyun asks. "Are you on the subway?"

"Train," Sehun confirms, and then, horrified when he hears the conductor, he opens his eyes. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"I fucking… missed my stop," Sehun laughs, and he meanders his way to the front where people are already lining up for the next stop. "I'm a moron."

"No," Baekhyun says. "You're not a moron."

"I'm a little bit of a moron."

"Only a little," Baekhyun says with a smile, and curiously, they talk the rest of the way home.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Baekhyun calls him three days later when Sehun is in the middle of dinner. Sehun finishes chewing, takes a sip of his water, and answers.

The level of sound from the other end makes Sehun recoil a bit before slowly bringing the phone back to his ear. Distantly, he can hear the laughter of others, something joyous about it, and it makes Sehun smile.

"Hello?"

“Guess who is gainfully employed at the establishment of his choosing!” Baekhyun hollers. “This guy!”

Sehun snorts as he imagines Baekhyun’s thumb poking into his chest, too eager to hold back.

"Congratulations," Sehun says. "When did you hear back?"

"Today!" He giggles cutely. "Oh my god, I was so nervous."

"I told you you didn't have to be nervous. I knew you'd get it."

"Yep, you're right. You said it all along," Baekhyun says, and he sounds so relaxed that the syllables all start to mix together. "So maybe you've earned my trust, kid. You're decent. You're all right."

That settles in Sehun's stomach warmly. He always knew he liked to be praised, but coming from Baekhyun, it feels even better than normal. It feels like he's patting Sehun on the head, feels like a funny sort of acceptance. Sehun tries not to let it get to him. If it gets to him, who knows what could happen?

"I'm glad," Sehun says, and he does not elaborate where he could.

"What are you up to?" Baekhyun asks. "Anything good?"

"I'm just… in the middle of dinner. Sorry."

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” Baekhyun apologizes. “I didn’t realize. Wait, why are you apologizing to me? Shut up.”

It’s then that Sehun puts all the pieces together, the noise and the slurring of his voice. Baekhyun is out. And he could have called anyone, but he called Sehun.

"You shut up," Sehun says. "Are you drunk?"

"_No_," Baekhyun says. "I am on my way to tipsy."

"Did you go out to celebrate?" Sehun perches his chin in his hand, imagining the blush streaking across Baekhyun's face.

"Yeah," Baekhyun says quietly. "Just a little. I don't start until Monday, so I'm free until then."

"Then enjoy," Sehun says. "Have one for me."

"Okay." Baekhyun's voice is hushed, like the phone is tucked close to him, and Sehun wonders why. It feels clandestine, sexy in that secretive kind of way, and Sehun sits a little straighter in his seat at the thought. "I'll let you eat. I don't wanna bother you."

"You're not bothering me," Sehun tells him. "You're never bothering me."

"Never?"

Sehun can practically see the little devilish smirk on his face like he's dreaming of all the ways he could makes Sehun rescind that statement.

"Not yet, at least," Sehun says.

"Will you let me know?" Baekhyun says, his voice wavering with his intoxication. "When I start getting annoying?"

Sehun doesn't know how to tell him that _he_ is the annoying one in relationships. _He_ is the one who gets too attached, who feels things too deeply, who clings too hard and ends up driving people away. He doesn't want to be that person, but he is, he knows he is.

But this is something new. This is starting fresh. He can be whoever he wants to be.

"I would tell you," Sehun says. "But I don't know. I've got a pretty high tolerance."

"I'm very talented," Baekhyun whispers. "Okay, go finish dinner."

"Okay," Sehun says, and his voice matches Baekhyun's, low, like they're spilling secrets they shouldn't be. "Why are we whispering?" 

"I dunno," Baekhyun whispers. "Just felt like being quiet with you."  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It becomes a bit of a thing. Sehun is hesitant to call it a thing, but he has no other sort of label for it. Routine feels too boring. Pattern feels too analytic. They have a thing, and they stretch it between them, a thin sheet of silk.

Baekhyun always calls on his walk home, usually at the end of Sehun's commute. He will be unlocking the door as Baekhyun complains about his new team, about their lack of experience, about their lack of vision, and Sehun enjoys it. It's nice hearing about someone else's problems so that you can forget about your own for a while. 

It usually lasts for a good while, and Sehun takes to fixing his meals while Baekhyun talks, while the conversations range from the normal fare to more dramatic retellings of the day. 

"So he comes up to me at lunch, right? Like I'm literally in the middle of eating my fucking ramen like a normal millennial male," Baekhyun says animatedly. "And he goes _Anne told me that I was lead on the Coyote Inc. file_. Like, can you believe the audacity? As if I'm not _literally_ her boss?"

"And besides, you told him yesterday," Sehun says.

"_Exactly!_" Baekhyun says. "Why would you need _further_ confirmation from anyone that you are _not_ the lead and that you are working _in support_ of the lead?" He huffs angrily. "Like, I told him, _you are not the lead_. I told him it, Sehun. I _told_ him it. And she knew better, too! What the fuck is going on?"

"I don’t know," Sehun laughs. "It doesn't make much sense at all."

"Nothing makes sense!"

Sehun laughs, and he chucks the mushrooms into the pan. They immediately start to sizzle, and Sehun turns away a little so that the noise isn't a huge distraction. This, of course, does not work.

"Are you cooking?" Baekhyun asks. "What are you making?"

"It's like a chicken thing," Sehun says. "Chicken and mushrooms and stuff. My friend sent me the recipe."

"It's so nice that you cook," Baekhyun says wistfully. "I wish I had a man who could cook."

It leaps to Sehun's stomach when it shouldn't, and he immediately chastises himself. _This isn't about that. You found a friend. Try not to screw it up by forcing your delusions onto it, by raising him onto a pedestal that he didn't agree to be put on. Besides_, he thinks, _maybe he was just joking._

"Me too, to be honest," Sehun says. "I can't cook at all."

"But you _do_ cook," Baekhyun says. "And _that_ is the difference between us."

"You could also cook."

"But it's so much easier to get GrubHub when I'm depressed and sick of everyone."

"True," Sehun says, and he gives the mushrooms a stir as they saute. "But with GrubHub, you have to talk to someone. Cooking, you don't have to speak to anyone if you don't want."

"Hm." A beat. "You raise an excellent point." Another beat, and the sound of a doorbell ringing. "But my food is downstairs. And you're still making your chicken and mushroom thing."

"Shut up," Sehun frowns.

"Call me back?" Baekhyun asks.

"Sure," Sehun says. "Enjoy your meal."

"Yeah, you too, Iron Chef Oh."  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Sehun washes the pans and the plates, and he returns them to their rightful place in the cabinet. He gets in the shower, does his nightly routine which includes some light reading and skin care, and after he’s feeling appropriately damp, he calls Baekhyun back, just as he said he would. It has become a fixture of his nights. They don’t often talk until morning like they did that first night, but on occasion they do, like on Friday nights when they have no plans.

But most nights, nights like this one, they mostly just talk until their eyes go tired. 

“Hey,” Sehun says. 

“Hey, you watch _Jeopardy!_ tonight?” 

“Nah, was it good?” 

“You know that it was,” Baekhyun says. “They did _Potent Potables_.” 

“And did you sweep?” 

“You know that I did,” Baekhyun sings smugly. “_You need this liquor to make a Moscow Mule_.” 

“Well, that’s easy,” Sehun says. “What is vodka?” 

“What is vodka? Mama’s five o’clock treat.” 

“Why?” Sehun groans. “Why do I talk to you?” 

“Because I’m funny, cute, and I bring a certain… _je ne sais quoi_ to your boring life?” 

_Yeah_, Sehun thinks. _Probably because of all those reasons._

"Mostly, I talk to you because I'm a bored loner who can't find a date," Sehun says. 

"Ouch, harsh. And deliberately untrue." 

"What's untrue about it?" 

"You've got friends," Baekhyun says. "You've got prospects and shit." 

It's true that they've developed enough now that Baekhyun knows about Chanyeol and Junmyeon, that he knows about who Sehun was initially calling. They've talked about their childhoods, about high school, about work, about everything black, white, and grey. 

But they've never really spoken about relationships, outside of the very first night. Sehun wonders if there's a reason for that. Maybe they aren't close enough yet? Sehun doesn't know how much closer they could be without being right next to each other. He rarely finds the time to speak to anyone every single day, but he always manages to find time for Baekhyun. 

He thinks about… about whether or not this is a normal thing. He knows it's strange, of course, but he hopes it's in that whimsical strange kind of way, and not, like, the damaging strange sort of way. 

"I dunno," Sehun says. "Like I said, it's been a while." 

"Rub your serial monogamy in my face more, you asshole." 

Sehun snorts. 

"It's not all that," Sehun says. "Well, unless you're with the right person."

He's had plenty of negative experiences, but—

"It's always worth it," Baekhyun says. "At least you got the chance." 

It sounds especially depressing, and Sehun's heart sinks at the mere suggestion. 

"I'm pretty sure people are just intimidated by you." And he's being honest. He couldn't imagine trying to approach someone so funny, so self-assured, so quick-witted and clever. 

"Nah," Baekhyun says, and he sounds world-weary, over it. Like he’s totally given up. "I've been with plenty of guys. They've always just wanted me for sex. And like, look, sex is fun. Sex is great. I’m all for, like, sex positivity or whatever, but when it's all it is… when I'm not worth something more… it's, like, holy shit, it's a weight on your fucking soul. Like, is that all I’m good for? Why am I good enough to fuck but not good enough to love?" 

Sehun didn't know what he expected Baekhyun to say, but it certainly wasn't that. In an instant, Sehun's whole view of Baekhyun shifts from untouchable confidence to vulnerability. It humanizes him in a way that shouldn't be possible. Baekhyun is larger-than-life. Baekhyun is near perfect. Why wouldn't someone want to be with him? How could anyone listen to him speak and not want to spend every waking moment with him? 

"Listen, you're… I mean, I don't know if what I'm saying would help at all or whatever, but I just think… you _are_ good enough to love. You are. A-And I just think you're amazing, and they don't know what they were missing.” 

Baekhyun sighs, sniffs, and when he speaks, his voice is impossibly hard, thick like concrete. 

_Where did all your softness go?_ Sehun wonders. 

"They knew me better than you do," Baekhyun says. 

Gut punch. 

"O-Ouch,” Sehun says with a little laugh. 

There is a broken little silence, and Sehun tries to nurse his wounds between the bookends. He thought that they were sort of on the same page regarding those kinds of things. He thought… well, he guesses that maybe he overestimated how important he was to Baekhyun. He supposes that maybe he should have curbed Baekhyun's importance to him. 

"Sorry," Baekhyun says sullenly. "I didn't mean it, I'm just… I'm just sort of a bitch sometimes, and I guess that's why guys don't wanna be with me." 

"Hey, fuck them." 

"What?" 

"Fuck them," Sehun says.

“Shut up,” Baekhyun laughs. “It’s not like it’s a crime to not want to be with me.” 

“It should be a crime to make someone feel that way.” Sehun turns in bed, and the pillowcase is cold against his cheek. “You’re a good person. You’re funny, and you’re… and you’re interesting, and I like talking to you. And I think I know you better than most. Don’t I?” 

“Yeah… maybe. But I dunno,” Baekhyun says, and his voice slides back into predictable playfulness. “Maybe I’ve been carefully cultivating a personality just to make you fall in love with me. Maybe I’ve been studying you.” 

The words stick in Sehun’s heart like a fistful of thorns, and he tries to pick them out, one by one, before he does something ridiculous. The swelling of affection, he ignores that. The fidgets of anxiety… he ignores those, too.

“Maybe,” Sehun says, and he tries the same coyness that he’s learned from Baekhyun. “And maybe it’s working.” 

“Guess we’ll never know for sure,” Baekhyun says, flighty, breezy. 

“Guess we’ll never know.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s well and truly caught feelings. It only takes a night in with Chanyeol, who is so very obviously not a genius.

“I _am_ a genius,” Chanyeol says. He is sitting on Sehun’s couch, bare feet all up on Sehun’s coffee table, a large glass of mostly rum and a bit of Coca-Cola sloshing in his hand. “I figured out the grand mystery.” 

“It wasn’t a mystery,” Sehun argues, and he reaches over, steadies Chanyeol’s glass so that he doesn’t spill on the couch. “You didn’t Nancy Drew shit.” 

“I Nancy Drew’d all over your tight little ass,” Chanyeol says, his finger swirling in a little circle in front of Sehun’s face, taunting, annoying. “You didn’t want me to figure it out, but I figured it out. Because, let the record show, I am the genius boy.” 

“You are drunk, and now you have to stay here.” He whines. “I was gonna call him tonight.” 

“See?” Chanyeol pokes the finger swirling by Sehun’s face against Sehun’s cheek. “See? _See?_” 

“See what?” 

“You didn’t tell me shit about this, but all of a sudden, he’s penciled into your nightly schedule?” 

“W-Well, it isn’t every night,” Sehun says, and upon realizing how incriminating it sounds, he quickly takes a sip of his beer. 

“How could you _do_ something like this?” Chanyeol whines, and he lays his head on Sehun’s shoulder, the glass of Jack and Coke in his hand tilted dangerously to the side. “How could you keep something so big hidden from me?” 

“It’s not a big thing,” Sehun argues. “And it wasn’t hidden.” 

“You call him every night, yet I didn’t even know about him until I go looking through your phone.” 

“Which, by the way, is an insane invasion of my personal privacy.” 

“You don’t even know what he looks like!” Chanyeol says. “This is huge! You, the man who is so obsessed with looks, he started taking prenatal vitamins!” 

“Listen,” Sehun says, and he points with his whole hand, “they’re basic everyday vitamins that are _marketed_ towards pregnancies. Anyone can take them. Why do you think pregnant people always glow and shit? It’s all the fuckin’ vitamin A, D, E, and, like, iron and stuff!” 

Chanyeol sits up sharply, stares into Sehun’s eyes, studying him, trying to find weaknesses. Sehun wonders if he finds any. 

“You really never seen him?” Chanyeol asks. “Like, not even an Insta?” 

“No.” 

“Snap?” 

“No.” 

“You haven’t FaceTimed?” 

“_No_,” Sehun says, shaking Chanyeol by the shoulder. “What aren’t you getting? What’s not fuckin’ clicking, my dude? I mean, I sort of like the mystery of it as we’re getting to know each other. I just... I dunno, he’s really cool, and I don’t wanna rush into anything.” 

Chanyeol only stares blankly back at Sehun, and it is a moment before he speaks, drops the biggest fuckin’ bomb of Sehun’s life on him. 

“You must really like him,” Chanyeol says. “_Like_ him, like him.” 

“No,” Sehun says. “It’s just nice to have a friend.” 

“Like, a special friend,” Chanyeol says, wiggling his eyebrows as he closes his eyes, lays his head back down onto the couch. “A special friend who you tell all your secrets. A special friend that you _hide_ from your _best friend_. A special friend who you have phone sex with on the reg.” He opens his eyes, rockets his head up. “You are at least having phone sex with him, right?” 

“No?” Sehun frowns. “No, I… I don’t like him like that.” 

“And I’m Idris Elba.” He shuts his eyes again. “If only, if only…”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
The conversation leaves Sehun reeling, even for the next two weeks. He and Baekhyun go on like normal, but he can’t seem to shake the words from his head. Is he really into Baekhyun? There are signs there, of course, Sehun felt the beginnings, the rumblings, the stirrings inside him.

But those things can be quashed, can’t they? And he was quashing them, wasn’t he? He had his feeling-stomping boots on, and he was ready to get to work. He swears he was, at some point. 

He’d been needing something. He didn’t know what he needed. But maybe he needed Baekhyun. Maybe he needed someone to like. To learn to love. 

He’s into Baekhyun. He’ll admit it now. 

But there is a more important question to be asked… is Baekhyun into him?  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Chanyeol takes him out on a Friday, and as water droplets race down the side of his sweating glass, Sehun idly traces them with his eyes and then with his fingertips. Chanyeol has been talking about a potential love interest, and Sehun feels awful for not giving much attention to it, but God, he just… he just _wants_.

“And so _I_ said, that’s what you think, and he goes ‘Well, yeah, there’s no way, those things weren’t made to be taken seriously,’ like he doesn’t realize what my body is capable of, you know? I’ve been _training_ for this day my entire life,” Chanyeol rambles, and then, Sehun is sharply slapped on the back. “Pay _attention_ to me.” 

“I am,” Sehun groans. “Continue with the Bad Dragon story.” 

“No, I want you to pay attention.” 

Sehun sighs, turns, elbow on the bar. “I am your captive audience.” He smiles weakly. “How big was it?” 

“You weren’t even listening to the _dickscription?_” Chanyeol groans, taking a hearty swig of his beer before setting it back to the bar with a _thunk_. “Listen, I know this is a good story. I told Jongdae, and he laughed for fifteen minutes.” 

“Nice.” 

“No, not _nice_.” Chanyeol frowns at him, a little twisting knot in his brow. “I wanna share with you!” 

It hits Sehun then that he is being incredibly selfish. Here is Chanyeol, eagerly wanting to share his stupid sexual exploits, and all Sehun can do is mope about whether or not the mystery man wants him in the same way. 

“I’m sorry,” Sehun says. “I’m a bad friend.” 

Chanyeol sighs, and he bumps his shoulder into Sehun’s. 

“No. You’re not a bad friend. You just need to get laid,” Chanyeol says. “You need to get _dick_.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want dick,” Sehun frowns. 

“Yeah, yeah, you want _emotional fulfillment_.” He makes a rainbow in the air with his hands when he says it, and Sehun smacks him across the shoulder. “Ow! See, this is why you don’t have a man. You and your penchant for violence!” 

Sehun frowns, folds his arms across his chest, and he sinks back onto his barstool, his posture going all funny. 

“God, I really hate seeing you like this,” Chanyeol says, and he pokes Sehun in the cheek, drawing away sharply before Sehun can smack him on the hand. “It’s so weird when you slouch. You’re no fun when you’re in love.” 

“I’m not in _love_.” 

“You are, at the very least, twitterpated.” 

_Twitterpated_, Sehun thinks with a frown. _God help me._

“I have an idea,” Chanyeol says. 

Sehun groans, flops over onto Chanyeol’s shoulder, and groans harder. All bad plans start with a glimmer in Chanyeol’s eye, pregnant with ridiculous hope. 

“What’s that, then? If you’re the genius boy, then tell me how I’m supposed to find out whether he likes me or not.” 

Chanyeol holds him by the face, one palm for each cheek, and he smiles at Sehun like the sun has dawned on the both of them. _Please_, Sehun thinks. _I hope to God he’s right._

“You gotta test the waters,” Chanyeol says. “Dip a toe in. See if the fish are biting.” 

“And how _exactly_ am I supposed to do that?” 

“There is only one way,” Chanyeol says wisely.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It is a stupid idea, and yet, Sehun can’t get it out of his fucking head.

Sehun doesn’t know how to bring something up like that, doesn’t know how to bridge the gap between _phone pen pal_ to _potential partner who you maybe have phone sex with_. He wishes there were some sort of guide online, maybe in _Teen Vogue_ or in a YouTube video, but as far as he can tell, there are no such guides. Like, who would want to have phone sex with someone they’ve never met before, someone they’ve never even _seen_ before? 

Seemingly, it is he alone. 

They’ve been dancing around this for so long now, or at least it _feels_ that way to Sehun. He’s not sure how much he’s imagining, how much is real. He just has a hope and a feeling. That amounts to bubblegum, as far as he’s concerned. So when he hears Baekhyun moan after a particularly good stretch, when the noise leaks out over the line and drips down Sehun’s neck, he shivers, thinks _I’ve got to do something about this._

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Baekhyun says. “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” Sehun stutters. “Sorry.” 

“Mm.” It’s a noncommittal sound, one that says _There’s something here. I’m not just teasing you. I know exactly what I’m doing with boys like you._

_Man_, Sehun thinks, _I bet you fuckin’ do._

“God,” Baekhyun says, and again, the sound that falls out of his mouth is so fucking _sexual_, so hot that Sehun can hardly believe it’s real. “I had such a hard day.” 

“Yeah?” Sehun says. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“No. I just wanna forget about it. I just wanna _relax_.” 

He couples the statement with another dreamy sigh, and Sehun’s mind takes it and runs with it. What might he look like right now? What might his body look like strewn across the bed, ready for the taking? What might he sound like if Sehun kissed his neck, sucked a mark to the hollow of his throat?

It is incredibly dangerous to be thinking this way, but Sehun can’t help himself. He’s spent too long denying it to himself, and what is the point of that? There is no point, of course, just another way to shut himself down from what he really wants because, as always, he thinks himself unworthy of it. 

Someone like Baekhyun, someone so interesting and fun… Sehun doesn’t know if that’s the type of person he deserves. 

“Hey,” Baekhyun says softly. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

How does he always manage to interrupt his worst thoughts? How does he always rip Sehun away from the worst of himself without even knowing? There’s something so wise in Baekhyun, so perceptive and kind, and _God_, Sehun thinks, _God, what I wouldn’t give just to stand in his light for a while._

It is then that he decides to put an end to his self-sabotage, to his denials and all the loathing. Baekhyun makes him want to get better. Baekhyun makes him want to let himself feel things and feel them deeply, something Sehun’s always, always wanted. Unconditional feeling. Unconditional love. He’s taken so many chances, never really found what he was looking for. Maybe, he thinks. Maybe this time. 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says. “I guess I’m just a little tired.” 

“Guess you could do with a little relaxation too, huh?” 

It is so coy, so sweet, and it is the perfect in, but Sehun is too chickenshit to actually take it. _Stretch your hand out just a little farther_, Sehun thinks. _Just an inch or so more._

“Yeah. A little.” 

“Hm… got any ideas?” 

_A few hundred_, he thinks. _A few hundred thousand_. 

“Not really.” 

_Idiot. You absolute moron._

“I got one,” Baekhyun says. 

“Shoot.” 

“Precisely.” 

Sehun snorts because it is the exact type of humor he’s come to expect from Baekhyun, but there is no answering giggle, no sharp little laugh, and Sehun nearly swallows his fucking tongue. 

“What?” Baekhyun says, put off like he’s Elle Woods who just got accepted into Harvard. “I think it’s a good idea.” 

“To _jerk off_?” Sehun says, and he wishes he could manage to sound a little less scandalized, a little less like a sheltered housewife who keeps filling up the bottle of Ciroc with water when it's near empty. 

“Yeah. Haven’t you been thinking about it?” 

_How honest can I be? How honest is too honest when I’ve never even seen your face?_

“Yeah,” Sehun says, and it sounds so fucking guilty. “Have you?” 

“Duh.” Sehun can hear the little smile, and he wonders if maybe Baekhyun would bite Sehun’s lip when he kissed him. “You think I ask every mystery man to jerk off with me?” 

_Mystery man_, Sehun thinks happily. _Does he think of me that way, too?_

“I don’t know your style,” Sehun says softly, smiling back. 

“Yeah, you do.” 

_Yes_, Sehun thinks. _I do._

"What are you wearing?" Baekhyun asks. 

"Oh my god, you are so fucking corny," Sehun says, and he runs a hand down his chest, tries to imagine it is Baekhyun's hand, the touch delicate but purposeful. 

"Did the connection go staticky?" Baekhyun asks. "Did you say _horny_?"

“Oh my god,” Sehun says with a filthy grin. “Shut _up_.” 

“I will,” Baekhyun says, voice dripping with heat, “if you do something to make me.” 

It is the kind of thing that may come to seem trite in retrospect, but in the moment, the flare of warmth that builds, bright and red, in Sehun’s stomach is unquestionable. He is still questioning himself, though, still battling his own desire. Same as always. 

“What should I do?” he asks. 

"Get undressed."

"A-All the way?"

"To your level of comfort," Baekhyun says sunnily.

A laugh is shocked out of him, and he realizes something. He’s got no reason to be so uptight about this shit. Baekhyun is always gonna be Baekhyun. And he’s always gonna be him. There’s nothing complicated about them. They’re always just gonna have this delightful little push and pull. It makes everything else so much sweeter. 

"What are you, a fucking masseuse?"

"I've been told on more than one occasion, and by more than one individual, might I add, that I'm quite good with my hands."

Sehun bites his lip as he stifles back a groan. "Be right back." He puts the phone on the bed, face down, and he sits up, strips his shirt off with not much care for where it lands. He shucks himself of his sweatpants, gets his lube from his bedside table, and he picks the phone back up.

"All done?" Baekhyun asks.

"Y-Yeah," Sehun says. "You?"

"Yeah," he answers. "I'm good."

Sehun's never had phone sex with anyone he wasn't dating, let alone someone he's never met before, let alone someone he's never _seen_ before. The thought is mind-numbingly hot, the possibilities endless, and while he wishes he knew what Baekhyun looked like, knew the lines of the shapes composing him, this is good too. This isn't _terrible_. Not by any standard. 

“Good,” Baekhyun says, and it’s not a whisper, but it’s nudged up against one, like he doesn’t even know he’s being erotic. “I’m glad.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

“So,” Baekhyun says, and it’s the kind of thing that’s accompanied by trailing fingers along collars, fingertips against sensitive skin, “how do we get this started?” 

“Uh, I don’t know,” Sehun says honestly, huffing out a little breath. “I’m not very good at this.” 

“Not much practice?” 

“No, not much.” 

“Luckily for you, I am well versed in this sort of thing,” Baekhyun says. “And the best way to start, obviously, is to just make noises.” Sehun furrows his brow. “I can sense your apprehension.” 

“You _are_ good at this.” 

“Touch your chest the way I would,” Baekhyun orders. “The way you know I would.” 

And Sehun is keen to obey. 

Sehun groans, touches himself with the lightest, most teasing touch. Surely, that's what Baekhyun would do. Surely, he wouldn't give in too fast. Baekhyun is all about drawing things out. Fighting and fighting until there isn't anything left to give.

“That’s good,” Baekhyun says. “Good boy.” 

Sehun moans a little before he can bite it back. But he supposes noises are the whole point of this. He rubs a thumb over a nipple, and the shock of pleasure surprises another sound out of him, one Baekhyun mirrors. 

“You sound so nice. You sound so good.” 

It’s so embarrassing, so shameful to be on this end of it, but he can’t help but want more. Want it so bad he can taste it. 

“Talk to me," Sehun whines. "Please?"

"God," Baekhyun groans. "You make me wanna—"

"Wanna what?"

"Wanna fuck you," Baekhyun says. "Like, hard."

The words are inelegant, crass, shouldn't be appealing at all, but somehow, in Baekhyun's voice, they are the most tempting words in the world. Somehow, because they're coming from Baekhyun, they are sin itself. Somehow, as they travel from Baekhyun's lips to Sehun's ear, they manage to drip down Sehun's throat like sticky-sweet honey, and they settle in Sehun's stomach like liquid fire.

"Fuck," Sehun moans. "I… I've been thinking about it."

"Yeah? This whole time?"

_No_, Sehun wants to say, but how can he lie? There's just something magnetic about Baekhyun. There's something about the two of them that just fucking _works_, and every time he imagines the two of them together, he starts to think about the way they would move. The way they would bring each other pleasure. The way they would speak to each other. The way their bodies would speak.

“Yeah,” Sehun admits. “I can’t help it.” 

"God," Baekhyun groans, and it is deep from his throat, the type of thing Sehun could picture from him if Sehun had his mouth around Baekhyun's cock. "I want you. I don't know that I've ever wanted anything as much as I want you."

Sehun whines, and the hand on his stomach, paused, moves lower. Lower, lower.

"Can I?" he whispers.

Baekhyun answers with a huffed laugh.

"Did I start without you?"

It is a blistering heat that skims along his skin, and Sehun doesn't hold back any longer, sees no need to. He dips his hand underneath the band of his briefs, and he touches just the head of his cock, feels it already wet. He shatters through a moan, and Baekhyun answers him, reverberation, and _yes_, Sehun thinks, _more_.

"I wish I was the one touching you," Baekhyun says, and it tastes sweet, the way all secrets do. "I wish I had my hands on you right now."

"Please," Sehun gasps, finally circling his hand around his cock, the lust aching its way through him. "Please, I wish you were here."

"Would you kiss me? Would you let me touch you?"

"Yes, God, yes."

"Would you touch me?" Baekhyun asks.

"Yes," Sehun moans. "Please, I… I want to."

"Where do you want to touch me?" Baekhyun teases.

Sehun tightens his fingers in a circle around the base of his cock as he squeezes his eyes shut so hard he sees little white stars amidst all the black.

"Everywhere," Sehun whimpers. "_Every_where."

"No," Baekhyun says. "You have to be specific unless you want me to make you sit there and watch."

Sehun doesn't tell him that, for a punishment, things could certainly be worse. Watching Baekhyun touch himself, watching his face shift with every little touch, watching his body twist, shake, shudder… Sehun could think of much, much worse.

"I can't be more specific," Sehun says. "Not when I want to touch every inch of you."

Baekhyun sighs, but it is a pleased sigh, the sort that accompanies a great stretch or a particularly good stroke of your hand, Sehun imagines. He tries to mirror it, strokes up and down his cock, tight, and he bites his lip so he doesn't embarrass himself with a startled sound of pleasure.

"Where would you start?" Baekhyun asks.

"Your face," Sehun says because lust strips you down to honesty, and Sehun has always been too honest for his own good, even when he's trying to cover himself up.

"My face?" He doesn't sound… doesn't sound offended or shocked, just attentive. Interest piqued. "Why?"

"I think… I think I'd like to kiss you before I touched you anywhere else," Sehun says. "And before I kissed you, I would just touch you on your cheek. Feel how soft your skin was. And then… and then if you let me, I would…"

"You'd lean in?" Baekhyun asks.

"Yeah."

"And you'd…?"

"I'd kiss you," Sehun answers, and he imagines it, twisting his hand around his cock wickedly, moaning sharply. "And once I started kissing you, I don't think that I'd be able to stop."

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun groans. “You’re so… you’re so cute, I’m gonna die.” 

Sehun shudders a laugh, bites his lip to stop from moaning out Baekhyun’s name. 

“I… I’m sorry, I’m not really good at this.” He shuts his eyes. “I’m bad at phone sex.” 

“My dick says otherwise.”

“G-Good,” Sehun says, and he puts a chokehold around the base of his cock, desperately tries to stop the spider web of heat from spreading all over his lower half, trickling out everywhere, over his thighs and through the pit of his stomach. “Fuck, I’m—” 

“What are you thinking about?” Baekhyun asks. “Tell me.” 

“Just thinking about… being inside you.” 

“Inside me?” There is a sharp intake of breath, and Sehun can’t decide if it’s delighted or disgusted, not until Baekhyun moans a bit. “Who said it would be _you_ inside me?” 

Sehun is about a half-second away from promising Baekhyun his heart and his asshole with the way his cock is throbbing in his hand, the blood pulsing wickedly through him. 

“We could do it whatever way you wanted,” Sehun promises. “However you wanted. As long as it was… as long as we were together, I don’t think I’d care what we did.” 

It is too vulnerable for this, but maybe that’s the idea, Sehun thinks. Maybe the whole point of sex is to lay yourself out, naked and soft and ready to be hurt, trusting him not to, trusting him to give you immeasurable pleasure in return. 

“R-Really?” There is a hitching sound, stuttered, and Sehun wants to touch him, wants to touch him so fucking badly, even if it was just to press one kiss to his lips. “That’s so… God, you’re just…” 

“What?” 

“You’re sweet.” Baekhyun sighs again. “I want to touch you. I wanna show you how good you are. I wanna make you feel good.” 

Sehun whimpers as he imagines it, the shape of Baekhyun amorphous, but the feeling overwhelming. He is soft, he is warm, and he is generous, the way he spreads over Sehun’s body like a phantom weight. 

He is holding something back, though, something massive, and Sehun can feel it. Wants to tell him _It’s okay to let go. It’s okay to do and say whatever you want. It’s okay. It’s all right._

“I wanna… I wanna,” Baekhyun starts, but he can’t seem to finish the words, can’t seem to find them in his head, and Sehun can relate. 

He feels driven from his mind with arousal, with desire. He wants to sink into Baekhyun, wants to know what every part of him feels like, wants to occupy some special part of him that others don’t know about. He moans brokenly, musical as they sing a duet together, the sound of their exasperation, their desperation, their _need_ reaches the height of the fever. Hot, hot, hotter. Ablaze with it. 

“I’m so close,” he cries, his wrist working as he imagines Baekhyun over top him, their mouths pressed together, their bodies sliding against each other. “God, I’m—”

“Don’t come yet,” Baekhyun tells him. “Not yet. Just… just a minute. Okay? Wait. Wait for me.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Yeah, please.” 

“Oh my God.” Baekhyun groans, deep in his chest, and it rumbles through the wires. “Oh my God, please, I’m—” 

“Come on,” Sehun begs, “let me come.” 

“No,” Baekhyun whines, and his throat is tight with need, Sehun can hear it. “Not yet.” 

Sehun likes the feeling, the gentle denial, and he wishes he was there, writhing against Baekhyun’s body, begging with more than just his words. His hips twist as he imagines it, being there, tempting him into more. _Let me_, he would say. _Let me make us come._

But he holds back, he obeys, he lets Baekhyun do with him what he wants, and eventually, he is so on edge that he has to let go of himself, too high-strung to hold back any longer. His body is tense, nowhere for all the energy to go, so he tangles his free hand in the sheets, waiting for Baekhyun’s noises to go from happy and teasing to frenetic and heavy. 

“I wish you were here,” Sehun says, and even to his own ears, it sounds like a confession. “I wish I could touch you.” He is fidgeting, trembling, his body so close to tumbling over the edge without his approval.

“Please.” It is a sound that Sehun’s never heard from Baekhyun before, so raw and vulnerable. Sehun realizes how much he likes him in that moment, realizes just how screwed he is. “Please, can we—”

“Please,” Sehun says, and he grabs himself again, his cock pulsing as he flexes unbidden, trying to hold back until Baekhyun says the word. “Make me come.” 

Sehun squeezes his eyes shut tight. Waits, waits, waits. Amidst all of the temptation and all of the noise, he waits. Desperate, but needing. 

“Come,” Baekhyun says, fractured and wounded, almost like it hurts. “Come for me.” 

Sehun is overwhelmed by the wave that sweeps over him. Head to toe, the spiraling warmth floods his bloodstream, pours out from every pore, and he moans quietly as he tries to stem the tide. But it doesn’t stop, doesn’t cease, feels endless as he shakes through it, voice going stuttery and sharp. 

He tries desperately to quiet himself so he can listen to Baekhyun as he comes, and he listens raptly as the waves of shivering pleasure make him tense up all over. Baekhyun sounds delicious, and Sehun wants to lick away all the sounds that sit on his tongue. It is too tempting. Now that he’s had it, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to go back to its absence. 

_Maybe I won’t have to_, Sehun thinks happily. _Maybe this can be the new normal._

There is a strange silence, and Sehun doesn’t know quite what to say after it’s all said and done. He arches his neck, looks down at his stomach where he’s striped himself with come, and he groans as his head hits the pillow once more, scrambling for something to say, something that won’t sound as stupid as it does in his head: _That was so good. Did you enjoy it? Will you leave me a five-star review on Yelp?_

“God,” Baekhyun moans. “I don’t know that I’ve ever come so hard.” 

Sehun pulses weakly at the words, and he strokes himself a little, a pearl dotting the head of his cock. _You’re driving me crazy. You’re driving me absolutely mad._

“Me neither,” Sehun says. “I can’t remember… can’t remember it ever feeling quite so good.” 

There is a satisfied noise that leaks through the line, and it tickles Sehun’s ear, making goosebumps jump up along Sehun’s arms. 

“Guess that means we’ve got good chemistry.” 

Sehun bites his lip to stop a silly, stupid sound from escaping him, and he pinches the soft skin of his thigh for a second. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Guess we do.” 

They sit there for an unknowable amount of time in a comfortable, cozy silence. Sehun can’t think of anything to say, but for once, he doesn’t particularly mind. For once, he feels as though it’s much better with the quiet, nothing to distract them. 

It is very late when they finally go to bed, and it sounds as if Baekhyun wishes he could stay longer when he finally leaves. 

“I-I’m gonna go,” Baekhyun says, voice just barely above a whisper, the softness laid along his voice like a blanket. “Holy shit, you made me so tired.” There is a small laugh that accompanies it, gentle. Sehun smiles. “Sleep well, okay?” 

“I will,” Sehun says, and he too keeps his voice quiet, like he’s trying not to break the glass overtop them. “Sweet dreams.” 

“Yeah. Y-Yeah, sweet dreams.” 

“Oh, and hey,” Baekhyun says, just in the nick of time, a little teasing in his voice. “Sunny-side up. And I like hot sauce on my eggs, okay? Cholula, if you have it, but I’m not picky.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes. 

“Go to bed.” 

“Okay,” Baekhyun smiles. 

Sehun smiles as he hangs up, the phone falling onto the bed beside him. 

He stares up at his ceiling fan in a daze, noticing the way the blades move. It looks like a gerbera daisy when his eyes go fuzzy, and he notices that he finds beauty in the strangest corners now, now that he is with Baekhyun. 

_With him_, Sehun thinks. _What a pretty thought that is._  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He wakes the next morning with a sense of dread on his chest like the weight of several hundred bars of solid gold. What did he do last night? What sort of _stupid_ advice did he take? From Chanyeol, no less? Was he high? Was he drunk?

Why couldn’t he have just _asked_? Why was it necessary to… to take such a step without even talking about it first? He starts to panic a little, catastrophizing as he lays in bed, staring at his fan, but then, he hears the pinging sound of a text message. 

Hurriedly, he opens his phone, but the feeling of dread doubles when he sees Baekhyun’s message. 

_we should talk later tonight_

They always talk. They talk every night. But those words, in that order, after what they did… it puts the fear of God in him. 

_Okay_, Sehun texts back. _call whenever u want._  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They don’t talk for the better part of the day, and that only adds to Sehun’s anxiety about the whole thing. He does shoot an angry text to Chanyeol which earns him a confused response that he doesn’t answer. He’s got too much on his mind, and he doesn’t focus at all. Can’t. Not with everything that’s going on between him and Baekhyun.

What is he going to say? That he regrets it? That he doesn’t want to pursue that kind of relationship with Sehun? That he wishes he’d never suggested it? Probably, Sehun thinks. Probably all that and more. If not, why would he text him so ominously? Why wouldn’t he be his normal flirtatious self? 

He doesn’t call on the way home the way he normally does, and Baekhyun doesn’t call until much later, after Sehun is in bed, waiting for his imminent demise. 

When the phone vibrates next to him, he jumps to grab it, to slide to answer it, answering “Hello?”, hoping he doesn’t sound too desperate, too needy. 

“Hey,” Baekhyun says softly. “Uh, how are you?” 

It is a very pedestrian beginning to their conversation, a beginning that Sehun had not anticipated. It’s just too _normal_, but he clings to normalcy, to any scrap of it he can find. 

“Oh, I’m… I’m good. How are you?” 

“Can I be honest?” Baekhyun laughs, doesn’t wait for Sehun’s response. “Not that good.” 

“No,” Sehun says softly. “Me neither. I’m—I wanted to apologize.” 

“For what?” 

“For… for last night,” Sehun says. “If we… if I crossed a line with anything I said, if I made you feel uncomfortable at all, I just—” 

“Sehun, stop. You didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.” 

“Oh.” Sehun blinks several times. “Oh, so… so are we okay?” 

Baekhyun breathes out unsteadily, and the solid gold dread falls down onto his chest again. 

“I don’t know.” Quiet, quiet. Sehun wants to shatter it, but he waits dutifully. “I sort of… I don’t know how to talk to you now.” 

“Talk to me like normal,” Sehun says. “Talk to me how you talked to me before.” 

“But now everything’s _different_,” Baekhyun whines. “It’s all changed.” 

“It doesn’t have to change. Not if you don’t want it to.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” Baekhyun says, defeat thick along his words. “Things always change after you bring sex into the equation.” 

“Isn’t that normally for the best, though?” Sehun asks. “Like, if we… if people move from friendship to a relationship, sex is usually the step. I mean, not that that’s the only step, but…” 

Baekhyun snorts. 

“What?” Sehun asks, a little put out. “What did I say that was so funny?” 

“When was the first time you had sex?” Baekhyun asks. 

Sehun does not expect this line of questioning, and predictably, he waffles for a second, clumsily falling over his words before he finds his answer. 

“U-Uh, I was sixteen,” Sehun says. “It was with a girl.” 

“Pouring one out for you.” 

Sehun laughs, says, “No, no, it was… it was pretty good, as far as first times go, I think. I really liked her, and she really liked me, and after, I mean, we kind of figured it out later that we weren’t right for each other, but…,” and he sighs happily, “but it was good while it lasted.” 

“Before you figured out you were gayer than a fuckin’ Edible Arrangement?” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says. “What about you? When was the first time you had sex?” 

Baekhyun snorts again, and it is the hard sort of sound that Sehun now associates with moments that Baekhyun feels done with the world. Sehun doesn’t like those sounds. He much prefers when Baekhyun is soft, happy to engage. 

“I was thirteen,” he says. 

“_Thirteen_?” 

“Oh, so now we’re _judging_?” 

“I’m not judging, it’s just… that is young,” Sehun says. 

“Yeah, no shit, dumbass,” Baekhyun laughs. 

“So… is that a road we shouldn’t travel down, or…?” 

“It’s fine,” Baekhyun says. “It wasn’t like, traumatic or anything, I was just, like… let’s just say that, over the course of my youth, I had more sex than I should have. And that kinda fucked me up for my adulthood. Whenever I needed to feel like… feel like I was a person with worth, you know? And that’s not good; that’s not a healthy way to live. And that lasted, like, up until a couple months ago.” 

He laughs, but it is not the happy kind of laugh, and Sehun’s stomach aches at the thought. People were… people were using him. He was using people in turn, never getting what he was after. And he’s internalized that now. 

“Huh.” 

“Huh what?” Baekhyun says. “Huh _what_, motherfucker?” 

Sehun smiles, bites his lip. It isn’t a happy conversation, but something about Baekhyun makes him happy anyway. 

"Just that, at the beginning, you said you'd never been in a relationship before," Sehun says. "I just sort of assumed…"

"Oh my God. You assumed I'd been celibate?"

"_No_. Well, I mean, at first, I wasn’t sure. And also, that's not really the sort of thing you ask a relative stranger." Sehun crosses his legs. "In my defense, it's not like you talked about your sexual exploits at first."

"No, you're right, that's fair," Baekhyun says. "But… I've always just sort of gone from one guy to the next. After the first couple times, getting rejected, I was like, _fuck this_, you know? From then on, once I realized I was getting in too deep, once I realized that I was catching feelings, I dipped."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" He laughs softly, gently. "Falling in love is scary, and no matter what they tell you, everyone’s out to hurt you."

The words are like a brutal slap to the face. Sehun's never been scared of that. Sehun's always been tragically, stupidly brave. He's always ready to get hurt again. He's always willing to bet on someone, his heart as collateral. Sehun never realized that some people aren't like that. Sehun never once thought _Maybe people are pushing me away because they're scared of that rejection. Maybe people aren't ready to let themselves be loved._

"I've never thought of it like that," Sehun says quietly.

"No?"

"No."

There is silence, and Sehun sort through it to figure out what kind it is. Should he fill it? Should he leave it where it lies? He spends a while just staring at his ceiling, thinking about the way Baekhyun is probably doing the same, just… just far away.

"How do you think of it?" Baekhyun whispers.

Sehun turns onto his side, the phone clutched to his ear. "I always get excited when I realize I'm falling in love." He sighs. "It's sort of… it's probably the nicest part of the relationship."

"Yeah?" There is a soft huff of breath, a lazy laugh. "You're such a hopeless romantic."

"Yeah," Sehun says. "Sorry."

"Nah," Baekhyun says. "Don't apologize. The world would be a better place with more people like you. People who know how to be vulnerable."

"You can be vulnerable." And then, after a streak of bravery runs through him, "I know you can."

"Yeah?" There is a shifting of fabric. Sehun knows by now that it is Baekhyun's comforter, gathering up around his body. "How do you know that, huh?"

"You're always vulnerable with me," Sehun says.

A soft moment, and Sehun doesn’t dare break it. 

"Maybe," Baekhyun says, "but that's because I can pretend like you're not real."

Sehun shuts his eyes, pretends like he isn't hurt by it. But it filters in like poison, dripping into his blood. _Is that something you do? Pretend like I'm imaginary?_ He wants to ask, but he's too scared of the answer. Maybe he isn't as brave as he thought. Maybe he's weak. Maybe he's just stupid.

"Hey, I didn't… I didn't mean it like that," Baekhyun says. "You know I didn't mean it like that."

"How did you mean it, then?"

"I mean it like… like, you feel like something I made up," Baekhyun laughs. "You feel like a dream."

"I'm real," Sehun says, a little petty. "Sorry if that, like, fucks with your plans to keep yourself detached."

"Thank you," Baekhyun tells him. "Because it does. Fuck with my plans, I mean… because I feel very attached to you."

_That_ shocks Sehun's eyes open, the words very much a confession, at least, the way Sehun hears them.

"O-Oh. Ye-Yeah, I'm attached to you too."

"Are you?" Baekhyun asks. "I really hope so. Because it would be super embarrassing if I was in this alone."

Sehun's heart starts to race, pumping so violently that he can feel his pulse in his ears.

"Y-Yeah," Sehun admits. "I am."

"Well, good." There is a stubborn little sound that escapes Baekhyun, the kind Sehun sometimes hears in his dreams. "Oh my God, I feel so stupid."

"I'm glad."

"You're _glad_?" Baekhyun screeches.

"Yeah," Sehun smiles. "I feel stupid, too. But it's sort of… I dunno, it's sort of the good kind of stupid."

There is a soft exhale of breath, and Sehun imagines Baekhyun sinking into sheets, the mattress pillowing around his body.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "The good kind. If there is such a thing."  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Sehun goes to work the next morning feeling more relieved than ever before. It wasn't exactly a _confession_, but with someone like Baekhyun, someone too scared to let his guard down, anything is _something_. And he can work with a simple attachment. He can foster that. He can make Baekhyun admit how he feels. He's sure of it.

And he is pretty sure that Baekhyun likes Sehun the way he likes Baekhyun. They talk every night, without fail. Even if it's only for a couple minutes because one of them has an early start in the morning, they always talk. Baekhyun tells him goodnight every evening, and Sehun tells him sweet dreams. That's not something you do to someone you don't like. That's not something you give away to just anyone.

Baekhyun has no experience in dating, but Sehun has plenty. If he needs to take the lead, so be it. He'll teach Baekhyun everything he needs to know, even if he needs to do it subconsciously.

On the walk home, they talk about their days, and Sehun asks about the latest account that Baekhyun has to divvy up the workload for, whether Jen is letting her promotion go to her head, what Baekhyun had for lunch, what he’s planning on making for dinner. 

“So interested in what I'm eating,” Baekhyun tuts. “Trying to fatten me up so you can feed me to a witch or something?” 

“No,” Sehun says. “Just interested in you, idiot.” 

“Yeah?” He says it with an armed coyness, like he’s learned to weaponize flirtation, a sharp edge of teasing along each of his words. “Am I that interesting?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, filling it with as much sincerity as he can muster. “You are.” 

There is a scratching silence, the kind that Sehun has learned Baekhyun will take any opportunity to fill. He waits, waits, waits for him to do so. He might wait forever, he thinks. Wait just for someone as special as Baekhyun. He’d be waiting forever if he loses this opportunity. He doesn’t think they make ones like him every day. 

“Shut up” is the weak answer that Baekhyun gives him, but the edge of him is gone, something sweeter and softer in its place. 

Sehun has no intention of changing him. He likes all sides of Baekhyun, sharp and soft, mutable and unyielding. He just… he wants Baekhyun to be free. Wants to see whatever Baekhyun wants to show, whatever he _really_ wants to show, not just what he thinks he ought to.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
On the whole, not much changes at first. Sehun works tirelessly in the subtle methods he’s learned is the only way that will yield any results. Baekhyun has thick walls built up around him, and Sehun doesn’t blame him. He thinks he might have those walls up, too, if he’d been hurt the way Baekhyun’s been hurt.

They talk more about their past relationships (or in Baekhyun’s case, his past _sexual_ relationships), and each time Baekhyun talks about a man the way he’d talk about a car, Sehun dies a little inside. They get nowhere, not with him talking about dick like it’s a stick-shift. _Once I shift into fourth gear, he really starts screaming._

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun laughs. “Is this too much for you?” 

“No. I’m fine.” 

“You seem…,” and Baekhyun dallies over the diction, like his fingers are dancing across the divide, “_jealous_.” 

“I’m not jealous,” Sehun says. 

“That’s what jealous people say.” 

“And non-jealous people too.” 

Baekhyun laughs, and Sehun smiles, feels the small bit of jealousy fall away. There is nothing to be jealous about, of course, and he knows that. Baekhyun’s time with them, with all of them, was superficial, skin-deep. What they have is different. He knows it’s different. 

He just needs to prove it. 

“We should go out sometime,” Sehun says suddenly. 

“Out?” Baekhyun snorts. “Out where?” 

“I don’t know. To… to a restaurant?” 

“Are you asking me or telling me?” 

“Both?” 

Baekhyun snorts again. His nose must hurt. 

“All right,” Baekhyun agrees. “We’ll go out sometime.” 

“Really?” Sehun can’t keep the excitement from out of his voice, so delighted by the step forward. “I mean, I think it’ll be really fun.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Baekhyun says. “You don’t have to convince me.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really.” There is a sound that Sehun can’t discern, something scratchy, like Baekhyun is running his hands over something, something loud enough that Sehun can hear the fidget. “I mean, do you think I hang around like this with everyone?” There is a sharp little laugh, the one Sehun has come to cherish. “Fuck, I can’t stand being on the phone.” A beat of silence, the fidgeting stopped. “Except when it’s you.” 

The feeling swells in Sehun’s chest, bright white, and it feels like sucking helium, the way his head goes dizzy, his voice goes high. 

“Y-You’re so adorable,” he says, and it feels like a secret that he’s sharing. “You’re really just…” 

“Enough,” Baekhyun says sharply. “Get your dick out.” 

“What?” 

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Baekhyun asks. “Get your dick out.” 

Sehun scrambles to oblige him, and the evening ends with him sweating, exhausted, painted with his own release, his head foggy about how he got there.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He doesn’t bring it up again for a while, doesn’t want to seem too desperate. After all, it is a big step, bringing their relationship into the real world.

A certain part of Sehun feels anxious. By this point, it’s got nothing to do with whether or not Baekhyun’s a serial killer (he’s almost positive a serial killer wouldn’t pull a long con like this) or what Baekhyun looks like. The anxiety stems from him. _What if he doesn’t like the way I look? What if we don’t work? What if he decides to stop talking to me?_

Over the last several months, Sehun has come to rely on Baekhyun for many things. He doesn’t know how it would feel to lose it. 

Sehun talks about his day, shares a little bit of his unrelated anxiety: he’s started training a new girl, and he isn’t sure if he’s doing a good job or not. Most days, she looks like she’s about to stand in front of a judge for a crime she absolutely committed, with wide, terrified eyes and shaking hands. He isn’t sure what to do to make her feel more comfortable. 

“Oh my God, please, you’re doing a good job.” 

“Stop.” 

“You’re so cute,” Baekhyun says sleepily. “Really cute.” 

Sehun sinks back into bed. He’s heard much more of that since they talked about their potential date. It seems like that step forward gave Baekhyun the go-ahead to be more… more affectionate. Sehun likes that. Doesn’t want to come to rely on it, though. Not unless he’ll get to have it for a while. 

“You don’t know if I’m cute or not,” Sehun replies without thinking much of it. “You’ve never seen my face before.” 

Baekhyun sighs out, happy, and Sehun feels it leak into him too, some magic spell that Baekhyun manages to cast on him with just a few sounds. 

“I don’t need to see your face.” 

Sehun can hear the smile again, and he tries to picture it in his head. Is Baekhyun as handsome as he imagines him to be? Does it even matter? 

“What, you don’t wanna meet me anymore?” Sehun asks coyly. 

“I never said that,” Baekhyun answers. “I just don’t need to know what you look like to know that I like you.” 

It sends a shock of pleasure straight into the deepest part of Sehun’s stomach, his mouth empty of all the words he wanted to say. 

“Is that too much?” Baekhyun asks, and there is that telltale worry in him, something fidgety and nervous, the type of thing that spreads like shockwaves through water. 

“N-No,” Sehun says. “No, I… I like you too, I’ve been… meaning to say out loud like that for a while now.” 

“Really?” 

Baekhyun is all light, all sound and noise wrapped up into a perfect little package, and Sehun wishes more than anything that he was wrapped in Baekhyun’s embrace right at this very moment. 

“Really.” 

“That’s… that’s nice,” Baekhyun says, and what would his smile look like if Sehun was next to him? What would it feel like to kiss him? 

“Yeah,” Sehun agrees. “Really nice.” 

“H-How long have you known?” 

“That I like you?” 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “How long?” 

“I dunno,” and he wonders, tries to think back, stretching all the way back to the very beginning. Was it truly that first conversation? Did it all happen so fast? “Probably the first time we talked. I knew… I knew I wanted to talk to you again.” 

“Yeah, but you didn’t know you _liked_ me liked me,” Baekhyun argues. 

And this is something that Sehun has come to cherish, come to love. He loves the little arguments, loves the way Baekhyun can debate anything and turn it into something wonderful. 

He could say something snarky, something bratty, and there would be something sweet about it, something so _them_, but the honesty slips out anyway, words he’s always wanted to say. 

“It didn’t take long,” Sehun tells him, and he means it. 

“No?” There is a smile in his voice, and Sehun wants to see it. Wants with everything in him. “Good. Me neither.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
The morning after, everything feels light, feels like fuckin’ helium. Sehun can’t actually believe so much has changed, and so quickly. He felt like he was hiding something, and then, within just a few days, everything was out in the open. Everything except their faces, of course.

“I’m just saying,” Chanyeol says, poking at his salad. “No matter how much you like, _get_ each other on a kismet level or whatever, it’s still fuckin’ weird that you haven’t at least Googled him.” 

“I don’t wanna, like, ruin the magic,” Sehun says. 

“Yeah, I get it,” Chanyeol nods. “I mean, I can definitely see how finding out he was a murderer would ruin the magic.” 

Sehun squints at him, balls up his napkin, and chucks it at him. It bounces off Chanyeol’s head while garnering no reaction. Huffing, he stabs a cube of his spicy tofu, and he shakes it at Chanyeol. 

“Look, I realize it’s not the smartest thing in the world. But, like, he’s a really good guy.” 

“I know. You’ve said. About a hundred million times.” 

“And I’m right!” Sehun squeaks. “He’s really good.” 

“Like, super good,” Chanyeol says. 

“The best.” 

“God.” Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “This is sickening.” He lowers his face, covers himself with an arm. “Leave me alone with my Cobb salad.” 

“I just… do you really think it’s a bad idea?” 

Chanyeol looks up, uncovers himself. Sits up straight. Breaks into a smile. 

“Nah, bud. I’m just giving you shit.” He kicks Sehun under the table. “I’ve never seen you so geeked up over a fucking boy before.” 

Sehun feels a little streak of heat fly across his cheeks, and he looks down, finds his stir-fry noodle bowl very interesting at that moment. 

“Aw, look at you,” Chanyeol says, and he kicks Sehun again. “Damn, you’re in _love_. You really gotta get this dude on a date before you explode.” 

_Yeah_, Sehun thinks. _You’re telling me._  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It does not take long for the topic to come up again. Everything is so very clear. Sehun likes Baekhyun. Baekhyun likes him. The only thing that’s missing, the only thing that’s been missing from the very beginning, is the meeting. And he said he wanted to meet. He said so. So why haven’t they yet?

Sehun doesn’t want to press the issue, but he can’t deny that he’s curious. Besides, if they ever mean to take their relationship _beyond_, in any sense of the word, physical meeting will have to be the next step. He can understand the hesitation, but to him, it’s worth it. He wants to meet. He wants to see Baekhyun. Wants to touch him. Wants to see if this could be something real. 

“I think we should go out,” Sehun says. “Soon. Like… maybe this weekend. Or the next, if you’ve already got plans.” There is a silence, like Baekhyun is trying to shove away from the conversation, but Sehun doesn’t let him shy away from it. “Seriously.”

"I know. But what if… what if you think I'm ugly?" Baekhyun asks timidly.

Sehun smiles, turns over in bed. 

"Are you ugly?"

"Shut _up_."

Sehun laughs, and he folds up his arm, lays his head overtop of it.

"You're not ugly, and apparently many men have found you suitable for sex," Sehun says, and Baekhyun laughs sharply at it. "So why would I think you were ugly? Do you have _any_ reasoning to back it up?"

There is an obviously large silence, and Baekhyun struggles to fill it with any sort of coherent thought. Once he finally breaks the quiet, he stutters through a couple words before finding his footing.

"Maybe you have better taste than what I'm accustomed to," he says loudly, like it makes him any smarter. "Maybe you're very picky."

"I'm not picky," Sehun says.

"You're picky with _food_," Baekhyun accuses.

"Says the man who won't eat cucumbers."

"They're _cold crunchy water_," Baekhyun says. "If I wanted ice, I would get myself some ice. It isn't that hard, and my kind doesn't come from a plant."

Sehun laughs, curling up in a little ball. Something about Baekhyun always makes him feel especially small, like he could fit inside Baekhyun’s hand. He knows, objectively, that none of that is true. Baekhyun is much shorter than him. But still… Sehun likes basking in that feeling. The smallness. 

“You’re deflecting,” Sehun says. “I’m not gonna let you deflect anymore.” 

“Kay.” 

“If you don’t wanna, I’m not gonna force you. If you wanna let me down gently, now’s the time.” 

“No,” Baekhyun says. “I’m not gonna deflect anymore.” 

“Kay. Then, maybe this weekend.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Yeah.” There’s the sound of settling, a huff of breath, and it feels like shifting into place. Sehun steels himself. “Friday. You’re free on Friday, right?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, and then, with a hint of suggestion, “maybe seven?” 

“Yeah, seven sounds good,” Sehun says. 

“Good.” 

“Good.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They agree on a restaurant, and Sehun cannot stop freaking the fuck out. He was totally cool, and now that the weekend is here, he is so totally not fucking cool. He is so the opposite of cool, he is practically on fire.

“Relaxation,” Chanyeol says calmly, sorting through Sehun’s clothes, trying to find something suitable. “You’re super fucking hot.” 

“You have to say that.” 

“I absolutely don’t.” Chanyeol picks up a white t-shirt. “Simple?” He then picks up a blazer. “Jazzed up, but simple? You’re sexy, you can literally pull anything off.” 

“I dunno,” Sehun frowns. “What if he wears something, like, really cute? What if I look like trash comparatively?” 

“Suck his dick under the table, you coward. You know how to trap a man.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, grabs the shirt and the blazer and he uses both his hands to hold the hangers against himself, staring in the mirror. Chanyeol hooks his chin over Sehun’s shoulder, holding him by the waist. 

“You’re worrying about nothing,” Chanyeol says. “You’ve been talking to him for months now. Literally, he’s all you talk about.” 

Sehun wants to refute it, but the truth is there regardless. When you’re passionate about something, it’s all you want to discuss. There’s nothing he’s more passionate about right now. Baekhyun is seemingly it. 

“What if he leaves?” Sehun says, staring down at the floor. “What if…” 

“What if he _what_?” Chanyeol spins Sehun around, knocks his forehead against Sehun’s. “What if he decides he doesn’t like you? Fuck him, then, his fuckin’ loss. You’re a bad bitch.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, nodding a little as if to convince himself of the fact. “Yeah, I’m a bad bitch.” 

“And what do bad bitches do?” Chanyeol asks. 

“Uh, they… they have a good time at dinner?” Chanyeol frowns. “You can’t kill them? They never get cold?” 

“You’re mixing ideologies. They look _hot_, and they get dinner for free,” Chanyeol says, and he spins Sehun back around, holds the outfit to Sehun’s body again. “And you are gonna do both.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He gets an Uber, bundled up in the back of the car, and when he walks in, he is overwhelmed by how beautiful the restaurant is. The room is dark but ambient, with soft, warm light, drapes of earth-toned fabric boughed along the ceiling. There are candles lit on each dark wooden table, and in the center of the room, there are hanging glass lanterns colored orange, red, and blue.

There is soft music, and the smell of garlic and sesame hangs in the air as Sehun approaches the hostess, waiting his turn until he says he’s meeting someone here. 

“Ah, I’ll take you right back,” the girl smiles, and she leads him back, through the crowded restaurant to where the… to where the most beautiful man he’s ever seen is sitting, staring at his phone, his lip between his teeth. “Here you go.” 

The sound makes Baekhyun jump, as if he was in his own little world until they arrived, and he stares up at Sehun with wide eyes, with an expression that Sehun can’t parse. 

“Thank you,” Sehun says, and as the woman walks away, Sehun unwraps himself from his coat and scarf, sits across from Baekhuyn, offers him a small smile. “Uh, hi.” 

“Hi,” Baekhyun says, still shell-shocked. “Sorry, I’m just… I sort of can’t believe you’re real.” 

“Yeah.” He chokes a little laugh. “Yeah, same.” 

“Should we just… take a minute to, like, look at each other?” He tilts his head to the side cutely, and Sehun wants to reach out and touch him, wants to take his hand, wants to kiss him. “Like, just take it all in?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun agrees. “That sounds good.” 

Baekhyun grabs his phone, swipes, and for a second, Sehun doesn’t understand, but when he sets the phone in between them, next to the appetizer plates, he sees the timer set. _1:00._

“Ready?” Baekhyun asks. 

“Ready.” 

His finger taps the start button, and immediately, the timer ticks down to 0:59. 

Sehun flicks his eyes up, and he immediately meets Baekhyun’s gaze. In the light, his eyes are amber, flecked with copper, streaked with gold. He’s got long, dark lashes, and when he blinks, Sehun blinks, too. He watches as Baekhyun’s eyes move down his body, and Sehun lets his eyes move, too. 

Baekhyun is just as he described. Shorter than Sehun by a fair margin. Dark hair that he said was in need of a cut. Sehun doesn’t think so. Sehun likes the way it would fall into his face if it wasn’t pushed back. 

His lips are pink, his Cupid’s bow sharp and well defined, his bottom lip just as full as the top. His cheeks are full, nose cute. His skin is clear, dewy, and Sehun doesn’t know if it’s because of the way the spring is beginning or if it’s because he takes good care of his skin, but he likes it either way. 

Baekhyun is dressed simply, a clean and crisp white dress shirt, top two buttons undone, the sleeves rolled up deliberately. Sehun’s glad he dressed up a little; he wouldn’t have wanted to look unworthy. 

Suddenly, the timer blares, and they both jump, Baekhyun surging forward to turn it off. 

“Oh my god,” Baekhyun laughs. “Should have turned that down.” 

“No, no,” Sehun says. “It’s probably good that it was loud. I dunno if I would have—” 

Baekhyun holds up a hand, a bright red stop sign. 

“Don’t say something cheesy. I know all your tricks by now.” 

“No, you don’t,” Sehun says. “You haven’t even seen half of them yet.” 

Baekhyun’s smile is sharp, sharp, sharp, and there is a heat between them that is palpable, thick. Sehun wonders what it means when he sees Baekhyun’s eyes slip down to rest along the width of Sehun’s shoulders, wonders what he’s carrying there that’s so very interesting. 

Sehun wets his lips with his tongue as his eyes go to the slope of Baekhyun’s neck, the hint of his throat and lower at the part of the shirt. 

It is then, of course, that the waitress stops by to ask them for their drink order. 

He nudges Baekhyun’s foot underneath the table. They have all night.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They eat well. There is hummus to start, sesame and garlic and lemon, served with taboon bread. They share the plate like old friends, and Sehun supposes that they sort of _are_. This is not a blind date in the most traditional definition. They already know so much about each other, and things flow as smoothly as they do every night. There is apprehension, awkwardness because of eagerness, but it is endearing. It is sweet.

Sehun gets eggplant, Baekhyun gets hanger steak, and they share a bottle of the cheapest pinot noir after staring at the list for ten minutes, pretending like they know what they’re looking at. They spend the night asking each other stupid questions, laughing at stupid jokes, and it feels like any other night, except occasionally, Sehun will feel Baekhyun’s foot nudging against his, running along the inside of his ankle. 

It is too easy for him. Sehun is ripe for the picking. 

Towards the end of the meal, Baekhyun’s phone goes off, a notification that Sehun knows all too well. It is the sound of Grindr, and Sehun swallows thickly as Baekhyun rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Baekhyun grins, and he grabs his phone, puts it on silent. “Old habits die hard.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun smiles, and he kicks Baekhyun under the table. “You suck.” 

“Not _yet_,” Baekhyun says. “Not yet.” 

It is not long after that the waitress returns, looking between them. 

“What do you say?” the waitress asks with a smile, handing them both a menu. “Dessert?” 

Baekhyun looks at Sehun over the menu, and when they lock eyes, Sehun feels the heat run up his fucking spine and directly into his brain. 

“M-Maybe, uh, maybe the olive oil cake in a box?” Sehun asks. 

They hand the menus back, and the girl smiles at him with a promise of the cake’s arrival with the check. 

“So, how we doing this?” Baekhyun says, and he leans forward, elbows on the table. “We splittin’ this?” 

“O-Or I could get this one,” Sehun says. “And you get the next.” 

“Oh, the _next_?” Baekhyun smiles. “You have fun, then?” 

“Yeah. A lot.” 

“Good. Me too.” 

Sehun gets his wallet, puts it up onto the table, and then Baekhyun grabs his hands. He hooks his ankle around Sehun’s, and it is delicious, just this little touch. Sehun isn’t sure how he’s gonna survive the rest of the night. 

“You wanna do something after this?” Baekhyun says, and it’s fucking dripping with confidence that drips away fast, revealing something soft and sweet underneath. “You do, right? I’m not reading this wrong. Like, this went good, right?” 

Sehun laughs sharply, something he picked up from Baekhyun. 

“Yeah. It went good.” 

“So,” Baekhyun grins. “Mine or yours?” 

“Mine,” Sehun says. “Yours next.” 

“Ah,” Baekhyun says. “I like that plan. I really like it.” 

The girl comes back not long after, and once he’s got his card back in his wallet, they walk out of the restaurant, the Uber to Sehun’s waiting outside.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They walk up to his apartment hand in hand, and Sehun can feel the way he’s sweating in the cold. _You’ve got no reason to be nervous_, he tells himself. _You already know what he likes._

They are careful around each other as they step out of their shoes at the door, and it is… awkward. For the first time since he's known Baekhyun, there is more awkwardness than eagerness in the air between them.

"S-Should I… uh, I mean, do you want something to drink?" Sehun asks, if not to be polite, then at least to have something to do with his hands.

"Uh, yeah, um… that would be great, actually," Baekhyun says.

Sehun throws a silent thank you to all the gods that exist. _Thank you for making him play along._

"Great." He walks out to the kitchen, opens up the refrigerator. He won't lie. He stocked up on things just in case the night went well. "I've got… um, I've got bottled water, kombucha, soda, iced tea, beer, wine…"

"What kind of iced tea is it?" Baekhyun asks.

Sehun turns, sees Baekhyun sitting at the little dining room table, and it is so fucking jarring that, for a moment, he can hardly believe Baekhyun's real, that _this_ is real, that they're actually here together.

"Uh, Arizona?" Sehun offers. “In the tallboy cans.” 

"You got the green tea one?" Baekhyun asks. "That was always my favorite as a kid."

He grabs two cans from the fridge, an Arizona Green Tea with Ginseng and Honey for Baekhyun and a Bud Light Lime for himself, and he sits down across from Baekhyun, sliding his drink to him.

"Sorry," Sehun says, shaking his head a little as if to clear the cobwebs. "I didn't know if it was supposed to be like, one of those scenes from a movie."

Baekhyun smirks as he pops the tab, takes a sip.

"One of what scenes?" Baekhyun says, and Sehun knows when he's playing dumb. He can feel it.

"You know. When they… when they've been waiting to get home so they could rip off each other's clothes. Or whatever."

Sehun pops the tab on his can, lets it hiss out.

"Ah, I understand," Baekhyun says, nodding with a knowing smile. "Is that what you were thinking about the whole time we were walking home? Ripping off my clothes?"

Sehun takes a sip of his beer.

"Should I lie?"

Baekhyun takes a sip, and Sehun watches his throat work. He finishes the pull, setting the can back down on the table, licking his lips clean, and Sehun watches that, too.

"Nah. Don't lie."

"Okay," Sehun says. "I won't. I was thinking about that."

"Did you get nervous?" Baekhyun smiles, and he starts to drum his fingernails against the metal can, something that Sehun mirrors, the twinkling sound falling across the linoleum.

"A little," Sehun says.

"Why?" He looks down, aims a smile downward as he thinks about it. "I was thinking about ripping your clothes off, too."

"T-That is very good to hear," Sehun says, and he stares down at the lime green label, absently scratching at it. "I was just… I didn't wanna do anything you weren't totally comfortable with. I know sometimes, people can make promises, and they maybe don't wanna actually do th—"

Baekhyun is quick when he reaches out, a hand resting on Sehun's. Sehun looks up at Baekhyun, looks at the warmth in his eyes.

"I wanna do the stuff I said I wanted to do," Baekhyun says, and his eyes flicker like the flame of a candle. "I wouldn't have come here if I didn't wanna fuck you. And fuck you hard."

Sehun's stomach aches with need, and he pushes the can to the side just as Baekhyun does the same.

"Is this when we rip each other's clothes off?" Sehun asks.

"You better not," Baekhyun says. "This shirt was expensive." He grins as he stands up, and Sehun follows him, their hands laced back together. "But, um, I wouldn't mind if you showed me back to your room?"

"Yeah," Sehun says. "Yeah, no problem."

The walk seems longer than normal, and when they finally step into Sehun’s bedroom, Baekhyun looks around too much for Sehun’s liking. He has to stop it. He only has one way of doing that. 

He shuts the door behind them, watches the broad of Baekhyun’s shoulders for a second before he takes Baekhyun in his arms. 

Slowly, he begins to press kisses to the back of his neck, gentle, soft. Slowly, he lets his hands pet over Baekhyun’s sides. Slowly, he pushes himself into Baekhyun, making him readjust his stance, making him moan, making him shut his eyes. 

How is this real? How is any of this real? Maybe he’s dreaming. Maybe he will be furious upon waking because of how _right_ this feels, how detailed and dense this world is. Sehun inhales, smells Baekhyun’s cologne, spicy and sweet, and Baekhyun’s skin is warm and soft under his lips. Sehun squeezes at Baekhyun’s waist, takes a little laugh as payment. 

“Are you trying to distract me?” Baekhyun asks, because they know each other too well now. “What, am I gonna find something naughty? Your secret stash of sex toys?” 

“I only have one,” Sehun admits. “It’s not very good.” 

“What is it?” 

Baekhyun turns to look over his shoulder, eyes wide with curiosity, and Sehun can’t hold back anymore. 

They kiss like they’ve kissed a million times before, like they’ve known each other for an eternity and more. It is soft, sweet, just like all of this, like _them_, and it settles in his stomach, hot and sharp. Baekhyun breathes against his mouth when they come apart, and his eyes are full of light in the dimly-lit room. How do you do that, Sehun wants to ask. How do you manage to fill up the darkest corners, spots I didn’t even know were in need of a little light? 

“Come on, what’s your sex toy?” Baekhyun whispers with a teasing smile. “Tell me all about it.” 

They are sharing a secret, and Sehun smiles, dots another kiss to Baekhyun’s lips. 

“It’s, uh,” Sehun says, hands at Baekhyun’s waist, “it’s a bullet vibrator.” 

“Yeah?” Baekhyun says, and this time, he leans forward, kissing Sehun quickly. “Show me.” 

Sehun frowns. 

“What?” Baekhyun taunts. “Embarrassed? Scared?” 

“_No_,” Sehun says, and that goads him into it, regretfully relinquishing his hold on Baekhyun to go rummaging through his bedside table. 

The bullet is wired to a battery pack, and he shamefully holds it in his hand. It’s about three inches long, and it feels silly to even have it. Pink, cheap, with weak vibrations. He regrets his entire existence. 

“Oh, that’s so _cute_,” Baekhyun says, stroking a finger along it before smiling up at Sehun. “Where’s this been, hm?” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says, and he tosses it onto the bed, hoping it’ll go forgotten. He wraps his arms around Baekhyun’s body, hands settling on the small of his back. “No toys.” 

“Not the first time, at least.” He is teasing Sehun, and Sehun lets him. He’s easily worked up, especially when Baekhyun puts his arms around Sehun’s neck, starts to kiss him like it’s foreplay. “God, you’re so… I literally can’t believe we’re here. Doing this.” 

“Not doing much yet,” Sehun says, easy for it, and Baekhyun nips at his mouth, sharp. “Ow.” 

“Baby,” Baekhyun teases, but it sets Sehun’s stomach alight all the same. 

They kiss like they’re working up to something, and their breath goes heavy as they waste time just getting to know each other. They’ve had months to learn, but this is different. This is special in its own way. 

Sehun is gentle with him, doesn’t ramp up the speed or the fever, takes it slowly, and Baekhyun echoes it, only sometimes leaking a small sound of pleasure into Sehun’s mouth. He takes those as eagerly as he can, returns them, lets Baekhyun know just how much he likes it. 

"Please," Baekhyun says, and he takes Sehun's arms, unwraps them, puts Sehun’s hands on his body. "Please, touch me. I haven't stopped thinking about it for months."

_Months?_

"Months?" Sehun asks.

"Oh, don't look so fucking cocky about it," Baekhyun grouses, and he moves Sehun's hands over his chest, settling one on each pectoral. "You know I liked you from the fucking beginning."

"I really didn't know," Sehun says. "I'm dumb about that sort of thing."

"Yeah, I should say so." He stares down at where he is pressing his hips into Sehun's. "Look. We're finally right next to each other, aren't we?"

The knowledge simmers through Sehun, bubbling hot, and he removes one hand from Baekhyun's chest to hold him by the back of his neck as he kisses him, kisses him hard, tries to put everything into that.

Baekhyun kisses him like he's been starving for this, like he's never had something so good in his life, and it makes Sehun moan into his mouth. He wants to take things slow, wants to ease into it, but a kiss like this feels like diving in headfirst, cannonballing into the water instead of dipping in a timid toe.

He paws at Baekhyun's chest with his free hand, and Baekhyun whimpers, the most delicious sound that Sehun's ever heard. And Baekhyun continues to make those delicious sounds. Sehun quickly realizes that there is no comparing phone calls to having someone in the flesh in front of you, and while the static in the air might have built them from the ground up, they have so, _so_ much room to grow from there.

Baekhyun pushes Sehun by the shoulders back towards the bed, and Sehun lets himself be pushed, eager to take whatever Baekhyun sees fit to give him. They kiss as they stand at the foot of it, and Sehun grinds his hips against Baekhyun's, trying to hedge his bets.

"Remember all the things I said I was gonna do?" Baekhyun says, and Sehun's mind flashes back to all those nights, all those filthy words.

_One day_, he thought, and now, that day is here.

"Y-Yeah," Sehun says.

"Take off your clothes," Baekhyun whispers against Sehun's mouth. "Let me make good on some promises, baby."

Sehun can't help himself. He chases the words with another fervent kiss, Baekhyun's face in his hands as he licks into his mouth, feels the arousal shiver through them both.

When he finally pulls back, he starts shrugging out of his clothes as quickly as he can. First, he pulls his shirt over his head, and he locks eyes with Baekhyun for a moment before Baekhyun's eyes slide down his skin. He can practically feel it, feel the physical touch, and _God_, Sehun wants it. He's pretty sure he's never wanted anything more.

He wastes no more time fucking around, simply unbuttons his pants and pushes them down, trying not to feel self-conscious about the way his cock is so fucking hard, he's confident in his ability to cut a fucking diamond. Once his cock is free from his underwear, it slaps against his stomach, making him moan quietly. He shoves everything down, his pants, his underwear, his insecurity, and he steps out of them as he stands back up, looking into Baekhyun's eyes, realizing just how fucking desperate he looks.

Baekhyun is there, fully dressed, eyes glazed over with want as he stares at Sehun's body. Sehun does not move to cover himself as some tucked away part of him wants to. He holds himself very carefully, arms at his sides, and he lets Baekhyun look his fill. They have spent so long imagining what it would be like to be in front of one another, and now that they finally are, Sehun supposes it deserves some time to sink in.

_Let me give myself to you,_ he thinks. _I wanna do it over and over again until you realize just how much you mean to me._

"You're so… you're so beautiful," Baekhyun whispers, and he steps forward carefully, a hand on Sehun's hip bone. "Fuck, _look_ at you."

Sehun feels the heat rise to his face, and his cock flexes unbidden, a weak pulse of lust zipping through him inelegantly.

"Please," Sehun pleads, and his hand goes to the collar of Baekhyun's shirt. "Come on, please."

"You want to look at me?" Baekhyun teases. "Really?"

Sehun can't think of anything on Earth he wants more than this.

"Really."

Baekhyun takes Sehun's face in his hands, kisses him fiercely, sharply, like the way he laughs, like the way he works, like the way he does everything. He is a whirlwind, he is a fucking storm. He is a wildfire, and Sehun is a forest with no fire lines, no way of preparing for him. There is no one like Baekhyun in this world, and Sehun will never have anything in his life ever again that is so very precious, so very special. He figures he better cherish it while he has it.

He kisses Sehun, bites at his lips, and Sehun opens, opens, lets Baekhyun do what he fucking wants with him. _I'll do anything. I'll do anything for you. I'm so ready to have you. I'm so ready to call you mine._

When Baekhyun pulls back, they are both breathless, chests working, and they are standing so close together that they push against each other as they try to catch their breath.

"Get on the bed," Baekhyun says lowly, and Sehun practically leaps to obey.

Absently, he tosses the bullet vibrator to the floor, the clattering sound forgotten as Sehun moves, settling his head on the small mountain of pillows, head propped up so that he can watch Baekhyun standing at the edge of the bed when he lays his body down flat.

"Good," Baekhyun says, and he lets his fingers dance along the arches of Sehun's feet to watch him scramble away from it. "Ah. Ticklish."

"I told you," Sehun smiles.

Baekhyun returns the smile, but it turns so lascivious, so lewd that Sehun can hardly believe someone so beautiful can look so fucking filthy.

"Yeah," he says. "You did tell me. What else did you tell me, hm?" 

Sehun sucks in a jagged breath, trying to stem the flood of warmth into him. There is so much that they discussed. He talked about distant fantasies. He talked about his deepest desires. He wanted, and he wanted without fear. 

"T-That I wanted you," Sehun says. "And that's true, too." 

Baekhyun's smile goes sweet, and he starts to pull off his clothes without much pageantry which is just as well: Baekhyun is beautiful enough. He doesn't need anything else, none of the window dressing. Just him being him is more than enough.

Sehun stares at him, can't keep his eyes from slipping over every inch of newly bare skin. It looks soft, looks supple to the touch, and Sehun resists the urge to sit up and make sure he's right on both accounts. 

The pieces of clothing fall to the floor, and before long, Baekhyun is starkly naked, they're both naked, and Sehun is lying there, unable to move. Baekhyun pins him there with a gaze, heated and lustful, and Sehun whimpers with need. He's always needed Baekhyun, he thinks. He always needed this. Someone to spoil him, but someone to challenge him, too. 

Baekhyun climbs up onto the bed, and when he crosses over Sehun's body on hands and knees, Sehun's hands go to Baekhyun's neck. He pulls Baekhyun's face low so that he can lean up to kiss him, torturous and sweet. Pressure is building in his body, and he's gotta find a release for it somehow. 

He brings his hands to Baekhyun's back, and he lets them slide down, lets his fingers pet over Baekhyun's soft, soft skin, just as supple as he thought it would be. He is better in reality than Sehun ever imagined in dreams, his heavenly body painted with stardust or something more beautiful. 

Sehun presses gently on the small of Baekhyun's back until Baekhyun's body falls onto his own, until their bodies finally touch. It feels like he's been waiting forever for such a moment, and he thinks it was well worth the wait. 

They both arch and moan at the sensation of hot skin against skin, and Sehun is surprised when Baekhyun breaks their kiss to begin to work his way down Sehun's neck. He sucks a mark to the thin skin there, and their cocks are so hard against each other, absently grinding against one another. 

"I've been thinking about this," Baekhyun mumbles between the wet sounds of his mouth against Sehun's throat. "Every single night." 

_Me too_, Sehun tries to say, but it comes out in a humming moan. Baekhyun is too good with his mouth, and the thought of that mouth wrapped around him makes his cock twitch, a good flex of the muscle. 

Baekhyun moves down, but he moves down so fucking slowly that Sehun thinks maybe Baekhyun just intends on keeping him on the edge all fucking night long. Sehun digs his nails into the meat of Baekhyun's shoulder when he starts to nip and lick at Sehun's nipples, clever fingers stroking down Sehun's obliques. A tickle runs along the surface of his skin, and it only serves to heighten the sensation, heat pooling in his stomach. 

"B-Baekhyun," he stutters. "Baekhyun, please." 

Baekhyun's mouth is wet and red, hair messy when he looks up and into Sehun's eyes. 

"Please what?" he asks. "What are you begging for?" 

Sehun doesn't even know, just furrows his brow and whines when Baekhyun twists a hand around the head of Sehun's cock. He is so sensitive, the arousal like a bright red flare in his gut.  
“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Sehun mumbles. “Just… just _please_.” 

Baekhyun grins wickedly, and he licks at Sehun’s stomach, looking up at him beneath his pretty, dark lashes. 

It is too much all at once, the visual and the sensations, but Sehun grips the sheets between his fingers, back arching as Baekhyun tastes him, licks him, sucks him into the wet warmth. Sehun’s lust is barely restrained as he holds Baekhyun’s face in his hands, tries to convey that this is too much, that this is entirely unnecessary. 

Baekhyun looks up at him as he licks lewdly at the head, and Sehun shuts his eyes, tries not to come too quickly. 

“Good?” Baekhyun asks, and Sehun opens his eyes, sees Baekhyun twisting his hand around the tip of Sehun’s cock wickedly, and Sehun wants to strangle him. 

“Y-Yeah,” Sehun says. “You know it’s good.” 

Baekhyun sits up on his knees, legs spread, and Sehun looks at Baekhyun’s cock, hard, hanging heavy between his thighs. 

“You wanna taste?” Baekhyun asks, and he reaches down, takes himself in hand, stroking up and down. “Hm?” 

Sehun surges up, and Baekhyun’s pupils dilate as Sehun turns him, flips him over, listens for the sigh that surely follows as he settles back into Sehun’s bed. It is a sight to behold, this beautiful person laid out before him, ripe for the picking. 

He kisses down Baekhyun’s body messily, in twisting lines that make no sense, in tangles and knots. Baekhyun pushes up into it when he takes him into his mouth, and Sehun gags a little on the length, eliciting a full-chest moan, the kind that goes straight to his groin. 

He spends too long there, between Baekhyun’s legs, but who could blame him? He kisses and licks, sucking bruises to the soft skin of Baekhyun’s thighs as he works Baekhyun over with a spit-slick hand. It draws the most beautiful noises from him, all the veins in his arms standing out, thick. 

“S-Stop, I’m… I’m so—,” and Baekhyun scrambles back to sit up against the headboard, his cock popping out from Sehun’s mouth wetly. “Jesus Christ, I think I’ve just been thinking about this too much. I’m so ready to come.” 

Sehun smiles, leans down as he spreads Baekhyun’s legs again, pressing a kiss to the insides of each of Baekhyun’s thighs. 

“Stop insinuating that I’m not getting you there just on talent alone,” Sehun whispers. 

Baekhyun narrows his eyes with a little grin, takes Sehun’s face in his hands, pulling him into a filthy kiss. It is everything, and Sehun moans into Baekhyun’s mouth, lets the sound pass back and forth between the two of them. 

He’s ready for… for whatever comes next. 

"You don't mind if I go first, do you?" Baekhyun says, and he stares down at Sehun's cock. "I think I'll fucking die if I don't get you inside me."

Sehun screws his eyes shut tight, because he can't bare to look at Baekhyun looking at his cock so hungrily, like he's about ready to devour him.

"N-No," Sehun says. "No, I don't mind."

"But fuck," Baekhyun says, and he puts Sehun onto his back once more, spreading Sehun's legs lewdly and stroking his hands down the backs of Sehun's thighs, "you've got such a great ass. I… it's hard to fuckin' pick."

Sehun knows what he means. Baekhyun is potentially the most beautiful person Sehun's ever laid eyes on, his body is plush with curves, his cock perfectly shaped and the perfect size, too. It almost feels wrong, it being this easy. They shouldn't work so well together. They shouldn't understand each other so well.

But they do. They _do_.

Sehun doesn’t need to ask for Baekhyun to settle onto his back, Sehun overtop of him. They just move, instinctive, and Sehun grabs for the bottle, wetting his fingers before stroking along Baekhyun’s skin, silently asking for Baekhyun to spread his legs. 

Sehun kisses him as Baekhyun parts, makes room for him to work, and Sehun slips his tongue into Baekhyun’s mouth as he slides the tip of his finger into him, a gasp shattering through the room. 

They don’t speak much, once they really settle into things. Sehun is laser-focused, drawing sounds from Baekhyun, trying to make this something memorable. _This is different_, he wants to say. _What we have between us, it’s always been different._

The way his fingers disappear inside Baekhyun’s body, the wet noises that he makes with his hands, he has to swallow thickly over his arousal, trying to temper it. Sweat sprouts along him, the heat rising, and he stretches him slowly, carefully. He pets up and in, Baekhyun shivering once Sehun’s found his prostate. It does not take long before Baekhyun’s body goes tense, and a weak little pulse of white shoots onto his stomach. Baekhyun moans weakly when Sehun slides his fingers out, nearly overwhelmed by what’s before him. 

“Shit,” Baekhyun whispers, opening one eye and looking down at his body. “Did I come?” 

“Not much.” 

Baekhyun looks up at him with a shy little smile, pats the bed blindly before tossing the condom at him. 

“Come on,” he says softly. “Put it on.” 

Sehun’s hands shake as he tears the foil, pinches the tip, and rolls it on. Baekhyun watches, and Sehun doesn’t know how to say what he wants to say. He positions himself, bracing himself, asks “Ready?” 

Baekhyun doesn’t speak, only nods, surging up with a flex of his abdomen to press a kiss to Sehun’s lips. 

He pushes inside, and Baekhyun’s arms circle Sehun’s neck, legs hitched up as their bodies meet, inch by inch, until they are flush against one another. 

It is unspeakably tender in those first few moments, and Sehun kisses Baekhyun's head, listens for the way his breathing goes from stuttering and stiff to relaxed but measured. This is not sex between people who have met for the first time. They know each other in deep, complicated ways, and this, the way they cling to each other, they way they hold each other so tightly, this reflects that, shines a light on it. Calls attention to it. _This is the way lovers hold each other._ Written plainly. Unavoidable. Undeniable. 

"Okay," Baekhyun says. "I'm okay now."

"You sure? I don't wanna—" 

“You’re not gonna hurt me.” His eyes are glittering and wet as he looks at Sehun. No one has ever been more beautiful, Sehun is sure of it. “Come on, I’m sure.” 

It doesn’t feel as dirty as it did. It doesn’t feel as lewd, as wanton. It feels _special_, filling Sehun’s chest with a warmth that he chases. He wants to close his hands around that, capture it. Keep it. _This is what I’ve been needing_, he thinks. Not just sex. Not just anyone. This. This and with _him_. 

Baekhyun crosses his legs behind Sehun's back, his ankles locked around Sehun's body.

"I'm sure," he repeats. 

Sehun’s throat works, and he kisses Baekhyun thoroughly as he withdraws nearly all the way before pushing back inside. Baekhyun clings to him, fingers at his back, and Sehun moans, whimpering against him. 

The rhythm is slow, meandering, like they have all the time in the world. Sehun works his hips, grinding to a beat that he can hear inside his head, a beat he realizes belatedly is the half-time of Baekhyun’s heartbeat. 

“F-Fuck,” Baekhyun stutters. “Fuck, you feel good.” 

Sehun buries his face at Baekhyun’s neck, kisses him there, and whines. 

“You feel… you feel amazing,” he whispers. “I want—” 

“Come on. Sehun, please,” Baekhyun says, and he presses his heels into the small of Sehun’s back, kisses the lobe of Sehun’s ear. “Fuck me.” 

He picks it up, half-time to full, and _Oh_, Sehun thinks, _it’s never felt like this before._

It shifts, morphs, and their bodies move together, Sehun on his knees as he holds Baekhyun steady, drives into him, pushes them both closer and closer. 

Their bodies roll together in the most deliriously hot way, and Sehun holds Baekhyun by the hips, driving his own hips up and in. The smacks of skin against skin would fill the room with sound, but the way they moan, the way they call each other's names, that would make the room overflow.

"Please," Baekhyun moans, and he takes Sehun's hand, puts it onto his cock, and Sehun's stomach twists with pleasure. "Please, touch me. I wanna come so badly."

Sehun brings his free hand up for a moment, spits into it, and he circles the head of Baekhyun's cock with it. He moans sharply, and it splinters through everything. Baekhyun's body squeezes tightly around Sehun's cock, and it is too hot, too wet, too _everything_. There's no way he's going to last much longer. It was a fucking miracle he lasted this long to begin with. He should have known from the very beginning that he was fucked, that he was completely and totally fucked. They are too good together. Much too good. 

"Fuck me," Baekhyun says, and he draws his legs up and in so that Sehun can thunder forward with more ease, with more finesse, but the longer he fucks him, the less ease, the less finesse he can muster. "Fuck me, oh my god, I'm gonna come."

Sehun squeezes Baekhyun's cock in his hand, strokes him roughly, his thumb hard against the ridge, and when Baekhyun spills over his fist, pours out over his stomach, his face twists with pleasure, his eyes screwed shut, his mouth open on Sehun’s name. 

He lowers himself down as Baekhyun tightens rhythmically around him, barely holding it together as he gathers Baekhyun up in his arms, thrusts into him. Baekhyun’s moans sharpen, razored, and Sehun dies a little as he comes, the pleasure poisonous as it spreads through him, delicious and deadly. 

Sehun gives himself a couple moments of rest, his breath falling back to normal, before he pushes up to look into Baekhyun’s eyes. He looks soft, eyes a little wet as he looks at anything besides Sehun. He doesn’t like that, not at all, so he reaches up, thumb brushing away a tear at the corner of his eye. 

“Are you okay?” Sehun asks quietly. “Did I hurt you?” 

Baekhyun blinks a few times in rapid succession. “No, not at all. No, it was… it was really good.” He finally lets their eyes connect, and he smiles. “Did it… did you think it was good?” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, crushes his body back to Baekhyun’s, laughing as he listens to Baekhyun’s answering “oof.” 

“Are you joking?” Sehun asks, and he sprinkles kisses across Baekhyun’s face. “How are you gonna ask that? After you just made me come so hard I saw God?” 

“Shut _up_,” Baekhyun groans. “Pull out before you get so soft the condom slips off.” 

“I’m not getting soft,” Sehun says, continuing to press kisses to Baekhyun’s cheeks, his forehead, his lips, his chin, “no way.” 

Baekhyun shoves him back playfully, a little grin on his face. Sehun regretfully withdraws, and they both moan at the feeling. Sehun moves quickly, not wanting to spend too much time away from the warmth of Baekhyun’s embrace, so he ties it off, throws it into the trash can, and cuddles up beside Baekhyun, smiling at him. 

Baekhyun doesn’t smile back at him. 

“Is this weird for you?” Sehun asks. “I mean, are you… are you all right?” 

He sighs, shuts his eyes, tries to smile. “I’m okay, it’s just… I don’t know where we go from here,” Baekhyun says. He opens his eyes, and he searches Sehun’s face as if looking for meaning. 

Sehun leans up onto his elbow, stares down at Baekhyun. It is guarded, then. He wonders if that’s what Baekhyun always looked like when they discussed relationship things on the phone. Is it obvious to everyone? Or is it just obvious to him? 

“What do you mean?” Sehun asks. He reaches out, strokes his fingers along Baekhyun’s cheek, and watches as his eyes shut again. “Hm?” 

He keeps his eyes closed, does not open them. A little bit of vulnerability. Not too much. _Everyone’s out to hurt you,_ he once said. 

_Not me,_ Sehun thinks. _Never me._

“Has the magic worn off for you?” Baekhyun asks. He opens his eyes slowly, eyelashes fluttering. “It’s okay if it has. I know, like, half the reason it was so hot was because we’d never… met in person, or whatever.” 

Sehun quibbles with the conceit. 

“That’s not why it was hot to me.” He leans down, kisses Baekhyun lushly. “I thought it was hot because I like you.” 

Baekhyun looks up at him with warm brown eyes that want to be so ice cold. _No,_ Sehun thinks. _You can never be as cold as you wanna be. You’re too good for that._

“You don’t really think that,” Baekhyun says. 

“I know what I think.” He swoops down again, fast and then slow, watches Baekhyun’s lips before he kisses them again. “I know what I feel.” 

“D-Don’t,” Baekhyun whispers with a tight smile. “You’re gonna get all my hopes up and shit.” 

Sehun slides a hand down his body, and he feels the way Baekhyun shudders, trembles under the touch. 

“Get them up,” Sehun teases. “Get them as high as they’ll go.” 

There are bitter wishes in his eyes, wishes that Sehun can tell he doesn’t want to have. He has so much inside him still that remains behind thick walls of solid concrete, and Sehun wants to break them down so that nothing remains between them. 

“Shut up.” Baekhyun’s eyes are warm, so warm and angry, like he can’t decide what he wants. Like he wants to let himself go. “If you end up treating me like all the rest—” 

“I won’t.” He smiles at Baekhyun, lets the warmth spread through both of them. “I know I want this to be something.” 

“Something?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Something.” 

“You don’t know what yet?” 

“I know what I want,” Sehun tells him. “I just wanna make sure you’re ready.” 

Baekhyun sighs, and he lays his head on Sehun’s chest, his cheek pressed into the muscle. 

“I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready,” he says. He presses a kiss to the shadow of Sehun’s pectoral before looking back up at Sehun. “If you’re waiting, I think you’ll be waiting a long time.” 

Sehun touches Baekhyun’s hair, threads his fingers through it as he scratches along Baekhyun’s scalp with his nails. Baekhyun closes his eyes, head falling back to Sehun’s chest. 

“I don’t mind waiting.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
In the morning, Sehun wakes up before Baekhyun does. He rolls over, pets a finger along Baekhyun’s spine, and for a minute or two, he watches him. He looks beautiful. His shoulders are broad, his waist is small, and the sheets are wrapped around his body, folded and wrinkled.

How many times has he wondered about what Baekhyun would look like in his bed? How many times has he thought about what he would do if he managed to get Baekhyun in the same room? Now, he’s here. Now, he’s got all the chances in the world. 

He is slow in his exit from the room, and he goes out to the kitchen, careful as he moves across the old wooden floor. There are hotspots that creak loudly, and he takes care to avoid them. He doesn’t want to wake Baekhyun up. 

Sehun sets the coffee pot up, starts to brew, and while he waits, he starts on breakfast. He knows Baekhyun likes eggs, knows he likes them sunny-side up, and he isn’t exactly a chef, but he can certainly manage that. 

Baekhyun pads out just as the toast pops up from the toaster, and Sehun smiles at him. 

“Morning,” Sehun says. “Did you sleep well?” 

“Excruciatingly well,” Baekhyun says, and he stretches, toes curling as his body goes long. 

“Excruciating is not usually a pleasant word.” He grabs the toast, plates up. “The connotations, in fact, are pretty universally negative. Just in case you didn’t know.” 

“My back hurts a little,” Baekhyun comments. “Your fault.” 

“Make it up to you,” Sehun says, and he puts the plate of food and the mug of sugary, creamy coffee down at the tiny kitchen table. “Sit. Eat.” 

Baekhyun obeys, sitting down, picking up his mug of coffee, holding it with both hands. He looks especially cute, small as he blows off the steam. Maybe he just looks average, Sehun can’t tell. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Baekhyun with coffee. Everything looks cute to him. 

Sehun joins him at the table, and Baekhyun slides his foot out, hooking his ankle around Sehun’s. 

“Thanks,” Baekhyun says. “For like, not kicking me out or whatever.” 

Sehun laughs sharply. “Did you really anticipate that?” Sehun moves his foot against Baekhyun’s, pets along his calf. “Seriously?” 

Baekhyun shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before he takes a sip of his coffee, setting it down, picking up his fork to slice cleanly into the yolk, spilling yellow out over the plate. Sehun watches it, mesmerized for a minute before he comes to his senses. 

“Oh, wait.” He hurriedly gets up from the table, walks to his counter, and grabs the bottle of Tapatío. He sets it down in front of Baekhyun with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, forgot for a minute.” 

Baekhyun looks back at Sehun with a funny expression, one Sehun’s never seen him make before, and he sets both hands on the table, pushes himself up before leaning over, pressing a kiss to Sehun’s cheek. 

Sehun is happy, of course, but it’s not until later, their bodies pressed against each other in the shower, that he understands. Baekhyun isn’t used to someone caring for him. Baekhyun isn’t used to someone remembering. Baekhyun isn’t used to commitment. Isn’t used to someone wanting every part of him. 

_Get used to it_, Sehun thinks, and he presses him against the tiled wall, slides down to kneel in front of him. _I knew I needed you before I even knew who you were._  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They laze around for most of the morning before they shower, and Baekhyun didn’t bring clothes, so Sehun lends him some, an old college sweatshirt and a pair of gym shorts. He looks ridiculously cute, swimming in the fabric like a little kid in clothes thrown to the bottom drawer, bedshirts and comfy pants.

“Sorry, I know they’re a little… big,” Sehun says, looking at the way the sweatshirt sleeves hang. “I could, uh, I could get you something different.” 

“No, no!” Baekhyun says happily. “This is, like, the shit I’m most comfortable in.” 

“Really?” Sehun flops back onto his bed, staring at Baekhyun. “Why?” 

“I dunno.” Baekhyun flops down next to him, cuddling into him. “Just, like, like the feeling of it, I guess.” 

“Like the opposite of a baby being swaddled.” 

“Exactly,” Baekhyun says, and Sehun runs his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair, making him sigh with pleasure. “You promised me Netflix and then a nap.” 

“That I did,” Sehun says, and he quickly sits up, grabbing the remote from where it was tossed inelegantly to the bed. He lies back down, starts clicking. “What do you wanna watch?” 

“I dunno,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t watch much television.” 

“Movie, then?” 

“I didn’t say I _wouldn’t_ watch television, only that I don’t watch much.” Sehun scooches close, rests his head against Baekhyun’s. “Put on something I’ll like.” 

“Ugh, the pressure is on,” Sehun says, and he clicks through, scrolling, until he remembers. He goes back up to the search bar, types in _J, E, O, P…_

“_Jeopardy!_?” Baekhyun screeches. “I didn’t know they had _Jeopardy!_ on Netflix.” 

“Yeah, they used to have the Champions, but now they have this,” Sehun says, and he scrolls through, showing him all the selections. “Every season premiere since the revival of the show. You know, with Trebek.” 

“Oh, that’s fucking dope.” Baekhyun squirms happily. “Put on the first one.” 

Sehun feels a welling of joy in his stomach, right at the bottom, and he does as he’s bid, selecting the first episode of _Jeopardy!_, the familiar music, the familiar voice playing as they hold each other close in his bed. 

“Holy shit,” Baekhyun exclaims. “Retro as _fuck_.” 

Sehun squeezes Baekhyun in his arms as the contestants are introduced, as Trebek explains the game, so much younger, so much more excitable. The game begins, fifty dollars in _Television_, and Baekhyun watches attentively as the answer is read: _Long-running Western about the Cartwright clan_. 

“Oh, shit, uh, uh,” Baekhyun stammers before the girl in the middle asks _What is_ Bonanza_?_. Baekhyun frowns. “I knew that.” 

“Ah, you’ll get the next one,” Sehun says, squeezing tighter as the next answer is read: _Eddie Murphy’s impersonation has revived interest…_  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They waste the day away lying there in Sehun’s bed, watching reruns of _Jeopardy!_, getting increasingly competitive. Sehun’s never been the best at _Jeopardy!_, but he’s never shied away from a challenge, especially not when it gets heated the way they do.

It ends with the sun setting around them, tangled up in the sheets as Alex Trebek’s voice still floats through the room. They kiss each other furiously, hands wandering, grabbing clothes and baring skin. Baekhyun lies atop him, hands on his face, one skimming down his chest before he roughly pokes Sehun's right pectoral. 

“You are _infuriating_,” Baekhyun says. “Just because you sweep a category in nineteenth century literature, which by the way, is a subject you’ve _never_ expressed interest in before…” 

Sehun captures his lips in a kiss, steals all the argument away from him as he rolls Baekhyun to his back. 

“Hey, rules are rules,” Sehun whispers. “Now shut up, and let me have my prize.” 

Sehun pulls up Baekhyun’s sweatshirt, _his_ sweatshirt up roughly, kisses and sucks at his chest until Baekhyun is whimpering. 

“I can’t come anymore,” Baekhyun whines. “I’m just gonna shoot dry. I need _sustenance_.” 

Sehun pops his head up. 

“Are you hungry?” He grabs his phone. _7:21 p.m._ “Shit, I didn’t… I didn’t realize it was so late.” 

“Me neither,” Baekhyun says with a smile, “but my stomach is gonna start growling in a minute, and that would have been really embarrassing if you were in the middle of rimming me.” 

Sehun falls to the bed beside Baekhyun with a laugh, swipes to the GrubHub app, holds it up over both of their heads so that they can look together. “What are you hungry for? I’ll get it delivered so we don’t have to put on pants.” He swipes through options, looks at Baekhyun expectantly. 

“_Sushi_,” Baekhyun moans. “Let’s get sushi.” 

They quickly key in an exceedingly large order, their eyes almost certainly bigger than their stomachs, and Sehun waits until he gets the notification that the order will be delivered in the next hour. 

“You want a snack?” Sehun asks. “Something to hold you over?” 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, grabs Sehun by the neck, and pulls him back on top. 

“I don’t want you holding this over my head,” he says. “So get back to work. This is a one time only offer.” 

Sehun smiles as he lays himself over Baekhyun’s body once more, rucking up his shirt again, kissing his way down. He’s got plenty of time.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They get out of bed to eat because Baekhyun insists that it’s disgusting to eat in bed.

“I ate your ass in bed,” Sehun says, shrugging a shoulder. 

“That _does not count_,” Baekhyun says, and he slides out a chair, slipping down into it. “Oh my God, I’m never going to hear the end of this.” 

“I’m just saying, if you’re not messy, it’s not a big deal!” 

Baekhyun groans, hands over his face, and it makes Sehun smile. 

He sets the trays of food down in front of them, snaps the chopsticks apart, and they eat in near silence, just sort of staring at each other occasionally, their feet resting against one another’s under the table. They’ve talked most of the day, stupid shit, sexy stuff, and it is nice to have an agreed-upon quiet moment to enjoy some gyoza and shrimp tempura and several different sorts of hand rolls. 

When they’ve finished, Baekhyun rests his hands on his stomach with another groan, this time satisfied. Sehun could get used to that sound. In fact, he thinks he already has.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It is late when Baekhyun finally, regretfully heads home, and Sehun sees him out to the car waiting for him. He hugs him close, his chin resting on the top of Baekhyun’s head.

“Call me when you get home, okay?” Sehun says. 

“You think I’m gonna get kidnapped or something?” Baekhyun snorts. 

“Nah, just… for old times' sake or whatever.” He pulls back, smiles down at Baekhyun, who rolls his eyes. Baekhyun surges up to kiss him, rising up on his tiptoes, and Sehun is forced to swallow his surprise. When they part, he blinks. “What was that for?” 

Baekhyun looks at him wryly, extricating himself from Sehun’s grasp, hand on the car door. 

“What, I gotta have a reason to kiss you now?” he asks coyly. “I’ll talk to you in a bit.” 

“Okay,” Sehun agrees, and the feeling in his stomach… could it already be love?  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It is not long after he’s showered that his phone rings, and he flails before picking it up.

“Hello?” 

“Why do you sound all out of breath?” Baekhyun asks. “You fucking some other boy already? I only just left.” 

It is said like a joke, but Sehun’s no idiot. Well, sometimes he is an idiot. But not now. Now, he knows what Baekhyun’s insecurities sound like. Now, he’s well-versed in that sort of thing. 

“Nah, just… had to clean up,” Sehun says. “Spent all day fucking you. The sheets are… well, I might have to get new ones, let’s just leave it there.” Baekhyun huffs out a little laugh. “Get home okay, though? Nobody tried to steal you?” 

“Nah,” Baekhyun says. “Not yet, at least.” 

Sehun hears the unlocking of his door, realizes that Baekhyun didn’t even wait until he was inside the house before calling. If it’s too soon for attachment, then at least they’re both too eager.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Chanyeol invites him to brunch, all you can eat and all you can drink.

Sehun doesn’t drink much, doesn’t wanna give too much away. 

“Come on,” Chanyeol says, and he tilts his glass full of orange juice and champagne against Sehun’s, makes the pleasant little chiming sound. “Indulge. Imbibe. I want details. I literally didn’t hear from you _at all_ yesterday, which makes me think…” 

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop,” Sehun says. “I’m not telling you shit.” 

“God,” Chanyeol says, and he rests his elbows on the table, chin in his hands. “You really are in love, aren’t you?” 

“Shut up,” Sehun scowls, and he takes another bite of his French toast, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully. “It was… it was really nice.” 

“Really nice?” Chanyeol sits forward. “_Nice_?” 

“Yeah. Nice.” 

Chanyeol frowns. Sits back in his seat. “You fucked him, right? Like, you engaged in intercourse finally? After all this time?” Sehun rolls his eyes. “Good, okay, just checking.” 

“I swear to God,” Sehun says, and he points his fork threateningly at Chanyeol, “say another word, and I’ll—” 

“I know, I know,” Chanyeol says, holding up his hands like he’s waving a white flag. “You’ll send me to space without a space suit.” 

“You will wish you were sent to space,” Sehun says. “You will be begging for the sweet death of orbit.” 

Chanyeol cackles, but for the next several minutes, he talks about stupid things, random things, fills up the silence without another question or comment about Baekhyun. It is a relief, but at the same time, some part of Sehun _wants_ to talk about it. _Wants_ to comment on it. 

_Is it wrong to feel like I know him? Is it wrong to feel like I love him already?_ He wonders these things, doesn’t have anyone else to turn to. So when the bill is settled, and Chanyeol is draining his last mimosa, Sehun clears his throat. 

Chanyeol raises his eyebrows, as if he’s been waiting for this moment but never expected it to come. 

“Hey, is it, like, is it stupid if I think I really like him?” Sehun asks, and then his brain immediately makes him clarify. He stares down at his hands, twisting his fingers together. “I mean, I know it’s stupid, we’ve only met once, we barely know each other in the grand scheme of the universe and its history, but like, we’ve been talking for months, I know about his family, I know about his childhood, I know where he grew up and where he went to school, I know his likes and dislikes, I know his hobbies, I know his dreams, I—” 

“Sehun.” He looks up, sees a soft look in Chanyeol’s eyes. “It isn’t dumb, okay?” 

Sehun swallows his spit, worries at his lip. 

“No?” 

“Nah.” 

Sehun breathes out. 

“Okay,” he says. “All right.” 

Chanyeol stands up from the table, walks around to grab Sehun in a tight, suffocating hug. “Proud of you, baby.” He snuggles into Sehun’s neck, sends Sehun squirming uncomfortably at the affection. “You know I’m gonna wanna meet him at some point, right?” 

Sehun groans, pushing away until he can twist his face in displeasure at Chanyeol. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, “I know.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He wasn’t sure when the next date would come. He knew, of course, that it _would_ come, but he wasn’t sure about whether or not he’d have to be the one to bring it up, if he would have to goad Baekhyun into it, if he’d have to beg Baekhyun for the opportunity. Things are funny between them, though. Things happen simply, whenever Baekhyun lets them.

It is the Thursday after their first date, and Sehun is in the middle of whining about how he wants pizza instead of his garbage meal-prepped chicken breast and broccoli when Baekhyun lets it happen, lets it happen simply. 

“We should get pizza tomorrow,” Baekhyun says. “If you, uh, if you wanted to come over. We could get pizza and watch a movie.” 

“Yeah?” Sehun asks. “Yeah, I mean, that sounds fucking great.” 

“You like Santucci’s?” 

“Who doesn’t like Santucci’s?” 

“I’ll buy,” Baekhyun offers. “We can meet on the subway. I’ll text you my stop. Does that work?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, unable to keep the shock from his voice. “Yeah, of course.” 

“Oh, and uh, you might wanna bring some clothes or something,” Baekhyun says. “If you’re planning on staying over.” 

“W—I mean, would that be okay?” 

Baekhyun snorts. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I weren’t thinking about it.” 

“Okay,” Sehun says. “Yeah, I’ll bring a bag.” 

“Good.” 

“Good.” 

And they go back to their previous conversation as if nothing even happened, as if everything is totally fuckin’ cool. In some way, Sehun supposes, everything _is_ cool. _Totally_ fuckin’ cool.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Sehun can’t keep his feet still through the work day, and his Apple Watch alerts him that his heart rate is elevated on several different occasions. He does not get any work done, and at the end of the day, the girl he’s been training, Olivia, smiles at him in the elevator.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “You’ve seemed a little… different today.” 

“Oh, yeah, I’m just… you know, sort of spacey,” Sehun says, and he shrugs his shoulder. “Fridays.” 

Olivia looks to where he is holding his backpack in front of him. 

“Right,” she says knowingly. “Fridays.” 

Sehun doesn’t say another word, choosing instead to focus on the ceiling of the cabin which becomes very interesting in that moment. 

He texts Baekhyun once he’s on the crowded subway line, _first car_, and then he quickly grabs a pole, waiting. 

Baekhyun texted, just as he said he would, so Sehun knows the stop that Baekhyun gets on. He keeps his eyes trained as they approach, and when he sees him walk through the sliding door, his heart starts beating a little bit faster. Baekhyun looks around before he sees him, eyes going soft when they meet. He makes his way over, squeezing past people, and when he grabs onto the pole, his hand covers Sehun’s. 

“Hey,” Baekhyun says, and he looks down Sehun’s body lewdly. “Ah. Brought your bag, huh?” 

Sehun watches his mouth, and already, it seems like too long since he’s kissed Baekhyun. Sehun knows what the honeymoon phase feels like, but God, has it ever tasted sweeter? 

“As instructed.” He swings it forward, bumps it against Baekhyun’s legs, and he smiles. “Did you have a good day?” 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “Thought about you a lot.” 

Sehun breathes out, shuddering. “Yeah, uh, same.” 

“Well, good,” Baekhyun says. “I would hope it’s not just me.” 

Baekhyun shuffles a little closer, his body tucked up against Sehun’s as the car lurches forward, as they make their stops, and they ride quietly, just resting against one another, Baekhyun’s hand covering Sehun’s. 

It is a short ride, just a couple stops, and Baekhyun tugs on Sehun’s shirt sleeve with a smile when it’s time for them to leave. 

They walk to Santucci’s, the air thick with the scent of garlic and Parmigiano-Reggiano, and Sehun stands behind Baekhyun as he places their order. They sit on padded benches, the sides of their thighs pressed together, Sehun’s backpack between his feet. 

“You want beer?” Baekhyun asks, gesturing to the freezer cases across the other side of the restaurant with the large sign, _Beer To Go!_ “I have a couple bottles of wine at the house, but—”

“Wine is good,” Sehun says. “I’m easy.” 

Baekhyun grins at him, and it is not long before their order is ready for pickup. Sehun hooks his backpack over his shoulders, dutifully carrying the pizza box as Baekhyun carries another bag.

“I’m telling you, these fucking garlic parm fries,” Baekhyun comments, bringing a triangle of fingertips to his mouth before blowing it away with a little kiss, “chef’s kiss, baby.” 

“I’m very excited,” Sehun says, and he hip checks Baekhyun, sends him off-kilter just a little as they meander down the street to Baekhyun’s apartment building. “What movie are we gonna watch?” 

“I dunno, I haven’t rewatched _Blade Runner_ in a while. Maybe we could do that. How long has it been for you?” 

“I have never seen _Blade Runner_,” Sehun says. 

“You’ve never seen _Blade Runner_,” Baekhyun repeats. “Is that a thing that you just said with your mouth?” 

“And my lungs and larynx and stuff.” 

“I can’t believe I talk to you,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t know if I can be _seen_ with you.” 

“All because of _Blade Runner_?” 

“_All because of Blade Runner_, he says,” Baekhyun scoffs. “_Yes_, all because of _Blade Runner_! It changed film! It changed the sci-fi genre! It changed _me_! Like, as a human being!” 

He swings the bag of appetizers around wildly, like he can’t quite control himself, and it makes Sehun snort out a laugh. 

“Well, if it was that important to your life, then I guess it’s high time I watch it,” Sehun says. “Will that make you happy?” 

“It’s not about happiness, coward.” He frowns. “But yes, it would make me happy.” 

“_Blade Runner_ it is,” Sehun says. “And then maybe the sequel!” 

“Shut up,” Baekhyun says ruthlessly. “You’re not allowed in my house.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He can understand why Baekhyun stared at his place wide-eyed, like he didn’t wanna close his eyes lest he miss a tiny detail. As they walk across the threshold, into the apartment, Sehun tries to take it all in. This the place where Baekhyun lives, the place where he rested as they spoke. This is the place where he ate his meals. This is the place where he laid his head. This is the place where he showered, pulled on his socks, read _Game of Thrones_, played _Jeopardy!_. This is the place where he drank his coffee. This is the place where he ate his eggs, sunny side up, slathered in hot sauce.

He spins around, searches for the little things. A maneki-neko planter, a lively little grass poking out from the top. A gold and mirrored bar cart with several half-empty bottles, the most noticeably empty being a tall, thin bottle of Ketel One. A stack of books on a table, the titles ranging from a weathered copy of _Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging_ to a crisp new hardback entitled _Three Women_ to a particularly interesting find, _Dear Scott, Dearest Zelda: The Love Letters of F. Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald_. 

He immediately commits it to memory, though he doesn’t know why. 

“Stop, I feel like you’re looking for clues,” Baekhyun laughs. 

His eyes are glittering when Sehun turns back with a grin. Sehun likes him too much. 

Baekhyun takes the pizza box from Sehun, puts it onto the dining room table. He folds his arms over his chest like he’s trying to protect his heart, and Sehun wants to… wants to pull them away. Wants to say _Trust me. Let me have it._

“What if I am?” he asks. “Looking for clues, that is.” 

He lets his eyes wander as he smiles, but Baekhyun throws his arms down, stomps over, and he puts his hands on Sehun’s face, making their eyes connect. 

“You don’t need clues, do you?” Baekhyun asks. He pulls Sehun into a kiss, one that tastes eager and tempered at the same time, confused at its core, and when he pulls back, he is shaking with breath. “We don’t have many secrets between us.” 

“No,” Sehun says. “Not many.” 

Baekhyun has so much light in his gaze, and Sehun can’t stop his lips from curving, delighted. 

“Pizza’s gonna get cold,” Baekhyun says. “We should eat.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, and he kisses Baekhyun again, temptation. “We should.” 

“Stop,” Baekhyun whines, and he kisses Sehun, hot, trembling with need. “I want you so bad.” 

“We gotta eat.” He kisses Baekhyun again, and he is being ridiculous, purposefully riling them both up. He pulls back, chest heaving. “We can wait, right?” 

“N-No,” Baekhyun says, like he doesn’t really want to say it. “We can’t.” 

Sehun grins. “We can.” He kisses Baekhyun again, this time, a chaste one, dotted to the seam of Baekhyun’s lips. “Can’t we?” 

Baekhyun groans angrily, pushing away from Sehun’s embrace, making Sehun choke out a laugh. 

“You want wine, right?” Baekhyun asks, turning to the fridge as he points to his right. “Get some plates from the cabinet, will you? Make yourself useful instead of being a fucking whore.” 

Sehun does as he’s told, smiling all the while. He fetches the plates, sets them on the table next to the pizza box as Baekhyun fills the glasses full of red wine, pushing his hip into Sehun’s as they move around the small kitchen. Baekhyun opens the cardboard boxes piled high with appetizers as Sehun puts a slice of square pizza on each plate. Baekhyun uses a fork, dishes each of them a portion of the famed garlic-parm fries and some of the fried long hots, too. It is homey, distinctly domestic, and Sehun loves it, loves it so much that his heart practically begins to glow. 

“We can eat on the couch,” Baekhyun suggests, traipsing over with their glasses of wine, a tilt in his hips. “Nice and comfy.” 

“Okay,” Sehun smiles, and he grabs the plates of food, follows as quickly as he can behind Baekhyun, pausing as Baekhyun sits down. “If you’re sure.” 

“What, you’re okay with eating in bed, but you’re not okay with eating on the couch?” Baekhyun scowls. “Sit down, moron.” 

Sehun dutifully sits, their plates and glasses resting on the coffee table in front of them. Baekhyun is casual in his movements as he grabs the remote, switching on the DVD player. 

“D-Do you seriously have _Blade Runner_ in your DVD player at all times?” Sehun asks. 

“In case of emergency,” Baekhyun says, and the movie begins without another word. He settles back into the couch, legs folded up in a pretzel as he settles the plate between them, his glass of wine in his hand. He nods towards Sehun’s food. “Come on, eat.” 

Sehun begins to feast as the police sirens wail, the text crawling up the screen as Baekhyun monologues it from memory. It is stupid, nerdy, and altogether the most endeared Sehun has ever been. 

“_This was not called execution_,” Baekhyun says dramatically. “_It was called retirement._” 

“Ooh, spooky,” Sehun says, and he settles back in, as much of his body pressed against Baekhyun’s as humanly possible. 

Baekhyun shushes him, says “Watch the movie,” despite the fact that he recites it nearly line by line, going so far as to pause the proceedings when he deems it necessary to explain the intricacies of the universe. 

Sehun watches raptly, everything important to Baekhyun suddenly very important to Sehun, and he realizes over his second glass of wine what he was looking for all along. He was looking for this. He was looking for Baekhyun.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
The phone calls don’t end when Sehun thought they might. There was a perfectly good excuse for the nightly conversations to cease, but they don’t stop. If anything, Sehun feels like he might talk to Baekhyun _more_. And this, he tells himself, is a step in the right direction.

He is no fool. Baekhyun isn’t ready for a commitment, isn’t even remotely ready to hear the word relationship, but Sehun knows that they are trending toward commitment, toward relationship. The feeling alone makes him giddy. It gets hard to contain, even when it should be easy. 

“Sehun,” Baekhyun says. “That’s disgusting.” 

“What’s disgusting?” Sehun says, and then, in his defense, “I mean, I think lactose intolerance is a pretty common thing.” 

“Don’t.” Sehun smiles, brings the covers close under his chin. “You literally started off this conversation with the benefits of kefir, but now, we’ve been in a ten-minute conversation about your poop habits.” 

“Are we not at that stage?” Sehun asks in jest. “When do we get to talk about poop?” 

“Hopefully never,” Baekhyun says, and he sounds uncharacteristically high-strung about it, which makes Sehun happy. “Hopefully never ever.” 

“Well, if you don’t wanna talk about the magic of kefir or about the magic of shit, then I have a question for you,” Sehun says. “And I want you to answer honestly.” 

“Honest as a frog.” 

“That is… not a phrase I’m familiar with,” Sehun says. “Are frogs particularly honest?” 

“Not that I know of.” 

“Then… _hey._” 

Baekhyun laughs, and it is one of the best sounds Sehun knows now. “Shoot.” Sehun hears the rustling of Baekhyun resettling into bed. “I don’t know if I’ll answer, but…” 

“Remember when you used to shower while we were on the phone? And you’d just put me on speaker?” 

“Y-Yes…” 

“Have you ever used the bathroom while on the ph—” 

“_Sehun, die_,” Baekhyun screeches. 

“Oh, surely you don’t mean _that_.” 

“I mean it!” Baekhyun yells. “I’m hanging up! Please die!” 

He doesn’t hang up, though, not for a great long while. Sehun never gets the answer to his question, and even though he’s never had much patience before, he figures that once you find something worth waiting for, it’s easy to find.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Months pass easily between the two of them, and Sehun keeps it as casual as he can manage. It is against his personal policy of diving in headfirst as soon as he can, so while it takes some getting used to at first, he feels like they settle into the comforts of stringless dating very easily.

Baekhyun texts him pretty frequently throughout the week, they talk every night, and on the weekends, they usually keep time free for each other, even if it is for very simple things. 

“You need _what_?” Sehun screeches before Baekhyun shoves his elbow into his side. “I just mean, like, come on, it’s 2019.” 

“You are part of the reason for my low supply, so I don’t wanna hear it,” Baekhyun says, and they twist and turn through the aisles of the CVS, Baekhyun throwing random things into his cart. “I swear, you with the biting of the hand that feeds you. Absolutely incredible.” 

“I’m just saying, aren’t we able to wait until you get the delivery? There are better ways of acquiring lube now,” Sehun says. “God, I hate even saying the word lube. It feels like the worst possible word.” 

They walk down the snack aisle, and Baekhyun puts a small and extremely overpriced bag of Chex Mix into his cart before throwing in a pack of root beer–flavored Twizzlers. Sehun watches silently, following Baekhyun around, and he smiles, charmed even by something so small. 

Baekhyun looks back over his shoulder, asks “Do you need anything?” 

“I think I need to get more soap, actually.” 

“Soap, it is,” Baekhyun says, and they wander past the beauty aisles before stopping in front of the bar soap. Baekhyun parks the cart, staring at the deluge of choices, but Sehun easily steps forward, grabs his Dove, and chucks it into the cart. “Seriously?” 

“What?” 

“Dove? My mom uses Dove.” 

“I’ve never heard you complain about the way I smell before,” Sehun says. 

“Shut up,” Baekhyun says. “You’re a baby.” 

“Correct.” 

Baekhyun scoffs even as he starts to smile, wheeling the cart around and moving down the next aisle. 

They finally reach their destination, stood next to two teenage boys who are giggling over condoms. 

Sehun leans his head back and whispers, “God, this is my personal nightmare,” to the ceiling, which makes Baekhyun snort. 

Baekhyun scans the shelves, and Sehun does, too. He is familiar with the bougie brand that Baekhyun uses, and he’s still confused as to why they’re in the middle of a drugstore, looking at the likes of Astroglide, Durex, and fucking Trojan. 

“When are you supposed to get the—” 

“Wednesday,” Baekhyun grimaces. “Why is Uberlube not sold at every major retailer in this stupid fucking country?” 

The boys next to them begin to giggle more adamantly, but Baekhyun turns to them, and Sehun can’t see his face, but apparently, it is enough to send them running from the condom display. 

Baekhyun turns back to Sehun with a smirk before he grabs a bottle of Astroglide and chucks it into the cart. 

“That stuff burns,” Sehun whines. “I’m sensitive.” 

“Suck it up, princess, or no ass for you.” 

Sehun pouts all the way back to Baekhyun’s, but despite the warming sensation, he does, in fact, suck it up.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It goes like that. The sticky spring comes with humidity, and they spend their weekends showering together, hands on the most comfortable parts of the other, tangled in soft sheets and playing in the most familiar way. Sehun presses kisses to Baekhyun’s collarbones, leaves marks, whispers little words of praise as quietly as he can manage. He doesn’t want Baekhyun to know, doesn’t want to scare him away.

But with the spring comes wedding season, and when Sehun gets his first invitation, crisp, clean cream cardstock in his hand, and he sees the _+1_, his heart starts to flutter in his chest. 

He tries to catch Baekhyun on a particularly good day. He is meeting him on the subway again, and when Baekhyun walks to the same pole they always meet at, he is grinning at Sehun like he’s got a secret. 

“What?” Sehun laughs. 

“Nothing,” Baekhyun says. “Just got a promotion, that’s all.” 

Sehun’s eyes go wide, and he sticks his free hand out to sock Baekhyun in the shoulder. “What the fuck, why didn’t you mention earlier?” 

“Just wanted to share the surprise over Postmates.” He shrugs a shoulder, tilting his head cutely to meet it. “I’m sort of flush with cashola right now.” 

“Zahav?” Sehun prompts. 

It was their first date, and it has become something of a sentimental thing for him now. 

“_Yes_,” Baekhyun moans, and he leans his head onto Sehun’s arm where he braces himself, the subway shuttling forward. “Hummus, hanger steak, and chocolate kanafi. I’ve been dreaming of it, baby.” 

Sehun’s heart flares with the affection, warm and red, and he lays his head onto Baekhyun’s, feeling like nothing can ruin the moment. They walk to Baekhyun’s hand in hand, and they watch old, old episodes of _QI_ on Baekhyun’s Fire Stick, laughing like hell whenever Alan hits his blue whale bit. It never stops being funny, at least to the two of them. 

When their food gets delivered, they sit at the table for a change even though they keep the show running, and they tangle their legs together as they eat, occasionally making stupid guesses, ribbing each other gently for their errors. The food is just as good as it always is, and the fact that they have a _place_ makes Sehun think that maybe he’s making too big of a deal out of something very simple. They enjoy each other’s company. They haven’t stopped dating yet. What could possibly stop them now? 

They are back on the couch when Sehun interrupts Jimmy Carr, startling Baekhyun with a “Hey.” 

Baekhyun furrows his brow. “Hi?” He turns back to the television. 

“I have a proposition.” 

Baekhyun sighs, pauses the television. 

“You can say no,” Sehun says. “I promise.” 

“Okay,” Baekhyun says. “You promised.” 

“I got an invitation to a wedding. It’s, uh, it’s a friend from college.” 

“_Chanyeol’s_ getting married?” 

“No, not Chanyeol,” Sehun says with a roll of his eyes. “A straight.” 

“Oh,” Baekhyun says, and Sehun can hear the frown. “So some heteros are getting married. What about it? Happens every day.” 

“Well, I’m invited.” 

“You mentioned.” 

“I got… I got a plus one,” Sehun says. “So I was just thinking… I don’t know, maybe you’d wanna go.” 

The pause that follows is so pregnant that Sehun can almost hear its water breaking, but he keeps his mouth shut, and he hopes for the best. Worst case scenario, he can bring Chanyeol, but he doubts it will be as fun. There’s nothing better than bringing a date to a wedding. There’s nothing more romantic than a wedding. Plus, free booze is always a draw. 

The silence stretches on long enough that Sehun starts to think that bringing up the alcohol might help things progress, but then, suddenly, Baekhyun mumbles something that Sehun doesn’t quite catch. 

“What?” He strains, tries to cycle back through the syllables he heard to try to piece together a word. “Did you—” 

“I’ll go,” Baekhyun says hurriedly. “What’s the dress code?” 

“Fancy pants,” Sehun answers in awe. 

“God, you’re such an idiot,” Baekhyun smiles, and he unpauses the show. “Let’s go shopping. Let’s match.” 

Baekhyun slouches down on the couch, settling his body against Sehun’s, a weight that is both comforting and new, familiar and fresh. Sehun can’t focus on the quiz anymore, just daydreaming about pocket squares and champagne toasts.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
The boutique that they go to is expensive, but Sehun wants to make sure that Baekhyun is happy with his look, happy with the coordination. He wants everything to go exactly according to plan, and according to plan means happy wife, happy life.

His suit is silvery grey, and it fits him like a fucking glove. He turns in the mirror, admires the way the pants frames his ass, and he thinks that it’s pretty good. The shirt is bright white, the tie charcoal, and the pocket square a blush pink. 

“Come on. Are you jerking off in there?” 

“Shut _up_,” Sehun hisses, and he opens the door, sees Baekhyun sitting in the little chair where he left him. “What do you think?” 

Baekhyun stands slowly, thumb and forefinger framing his chin as he observes Sehun like he’s a piece of art, critical. 

He looks Sehun up and down, his eyes practically stuck to Sehun’s skin, and it feels vaguely sexual as he moves around Sehun’s body in a circle, taking it all in. 

“Sexy,” is his verdict, and he smacks Sehun on the butt before pushing him back into the changing room, shutting the door. His voice carries through the slats. “We’ll get that. I like the pink.” 

Sehun can feel the way his face heats with anticipation, with excitement, with the blatant giddiness that should be reserved for schoolgirls with their first crush.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He can barely keep his shit together for the weeks before the wedding, and when the day finally arrives, he can’t think of anything besides. The wedding, the reception, the hotel afterwards… Baekhyun and he will share a hotel room for the night, and there is something so enticing about that.

Sehun fidgets on the ride over, hands beating against the steering wheel, and he double parks, turning his hazards on before running up to Baekhyun’s door. When he answers Sehun’s knock, Sehun is… absolutely fucking floored. 

“Hey,” Baekhyun says with a bright smile, adjusting his tie slightly. “Are you ready to go? Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?” 

Sehun is shocked into silence at the way he looks, his sheer beauty making him incapable of speaking. He is… he’s so _radiant_, so incredibly gorgeous. He is wearing exactly as he described, a white button-down with a soft metallic blush pink tie to match Sehun’s pocket square, a black jacket with a white-and-pink striped pocket square. He’s got a pair of aviators on top of his head, and his hair is styled in a way that Sehun’s never seen before, sort of messy but coaxed tame, and Sehun imagines burying his hands in it, imagines pulling their bodies together. Imagines the heat. Imagines the sounds. 

“Sehun?” 

It snaps him out of it quickly. 

“N-No, I’m good,” Sehun says. “Do you need anything?” 

“Just gotta put on my shoes,” Baekhyun smiles. “Hold on.” 

He walks down the hall, and there are a pair of shiny black dress shoes that he steps into, bending over in his dress pants to tie them up. His ass looks especially good from the angle, and before Sehun can chastise himself, he steps forward, presses himself up against Baekhyun. 

“Excuse me,” Baekhyun says. “I’m in the middle of dressing.” 

“Dressing,” Sehun scoffs. “You’re dressed.” 

“_Almost_. Keep it in your pants, tiger.” 

“Pants are for losers,” Sehun says, and he pushes himself gently against Baekhyun so as to not set him off-balance in such a precarious position. “That’s my new bumper sticker proposal. What do you think?” 

Baekhyun groans brokenly, and he makes no effort to shove Sehun away, so he grinds himself lazily into Baekhyun, his body beginning to respond. 

“I think there needs to be a workshop,” Baekhyun says, and Sehun plays with the end of his jacket for a minute before stepping back, letting Baekhyun stand up straight again. “God, you’re so fucking horny.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, not a hint of sheepishness in him. “You’re hot. I like you.” 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes dramatically, but as he grabs his backpack and walks out the door, leaving Sehun to lock up behind him, Sehun sees a smile, and that is plenty.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Sehun borrowed Chanyeol’s car, and he made sure to get it cleaned beforehand.

The wedding is out in the suburbs, the wedding itself at the arboretum. The reception is still on the premises, a barn built in the late 1800s. Sehun did a lot of research beforehand because it is a pretty long drive for the two of them, and he didn’t want the conversation to lull. It’s a silly thing because they’ve had plenty of lulls between them before, but never… never so closed in. Never so trapped. It seems scary, seems too real, and Sehun wants to shove it away as far as he possibly can. 

“You a spokesperson or something?” Baekhyun asks, and he has made himself comfortable in the passenger’s seat, leg kicked up and resting against the dashboard. “Are they paying you to talk about how lovely the grounds are? About the sunflower exhibit?” 

“No, just thought there was some interesting information, that’s all,” Sehun says. “Get your leg down from the dash. If I stop short, you’ll break your kneecap.” 

It only makes Baekhyun twist himself deeper into a pretzel to spite Sehun, and he shoots Sehun a cocky look, all twisting smile and _What are you gonna do about it, stud?_

Well, Sehun could think of a few things with the way Baekhyun looks right now. 

“So, how do you know these people again?” Baekhyun asks. “They were… friends, right? This isn’t a family thing, is it?” 

“Friends from college,” Sehun says, and he chances a glance over at Baekhyun. “Sorry, I know… I know going to weddings where you don’t know anyone is sort of—” 

“No, it’s cool,” Baekhyun says. “I sort of like it.” 

The road is slipping past them, miles and miles to go, but he feels them creeping towards something, slowly, surely. 

“You do?” 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I mean, isn’t that fun? It’s like when you went away to college for the first time. You got to… I dunno, you got to meet new people, be whoever you wanted to be. Be someone new. I mean, that’s why—never mind, this is stupid.” 

“What’s stupid?” 

“Nothing.” 

Sehun looks over, looks back to the road, regretful that he can’t stare at Baekhyun longer. 

“Tell me,” Sehun says. “Please?” 

“I was just gonna say,” Baekhyun says, slowly, like he’s a millisecond away from chickening out again, “that it sort of reminds me of when we first started talking.” 

“Being someone new?” Sehun asks. 

“Yeah.” There is a long enough silence that Sehun has the time to hurriedly look at Baekhyun again before again turning back to the road. “I felt like I could be something different when I was talking to you.” 

“That doesn’t have to change,” Sehun says. He stares at the black, the white, the yellow, and his eyes go a little fuzzy before they snap back to focus. “We don’t… you don’t ever have to be something specific around me.” 

Baekhyun snorts beside him. “Yes, I do.” 

Sehun keeps his eyes very carefully ahead, doesn’t want to spook Baekhyun at all, not like this. Not when they’re… finally getting somewhere. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I have to… I have to be interesting and funny and cute but not too cute, and I have to call you on your shit, and I have to be sexy, but I also have to be, like, deep and shit,” Baekhyun rattles off. “I have to be everything, or else it isn’t enough.” 

“Who says?” 

Sehun can see Baekhyun’s sharp movement out of his peripherals, can feel Baekhyun’s eyes on him. 

“Everyone says.” 

Sehun looks over, and he has to look away again before he gets upset. Baekhyun wears the saddest expression, defeated and alone. _But you aren’t alone,_ Sehun wants to say. _Not while I’m around._

“I don’t think that’s true,” Sehun says. “I like you… however.” 

“However?” Another little snort. “Just me being me?” 

“Like that’s so funny,” Sehun says. “Like it’s a joke.” 

“It is,” Baekhyun says. 

“It isn’t.” He tightens his hands on the wheel, and he can feel his heart thumping in his neck. “I don’t think it’s a joke, at least. That’s how I really feel.” For lack of something to do, he turns on his blinker, switches needlessly to the center lane. “Like, I don’t mind that you’re a bitch sometimes.” 

Baekhyun snorts loudly, and it makes a smile bloom on Sehun’s face. He’s too eager, but he looks over, sees Baekhyun unfold his legs, sinking into his seat, settling in like he’s finally comfortable. 

“You’re a bitch, too, you know,” Baekhyun says. 

“Yeah, but that’s part of my charm, isn’t it?” 

Baekhyun takes the aviators from the top of his head and lowers them down, barely hanging on the bridge of his nose, sitting there coolly. 

“I suppose,” he says, and he grabs Sehun’s phone, changes the music to something soft and slow and romantic, and he reaches across the center console, grabs Sehun’s free hand. “You’re okay, I guess.” 

Sehun drives, only distracted once by an old familiar sound, the muted plinking string notification of Grindr. Baekhyun smiles when Sehun looks over, immediately looking away like he saw something he shouldn’t. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Baekhyun says. “It’s not like I answer.” Sehun’s stomach settles inside him, feels a little less like it’s about to jump out of his mouth. “That’s better.” 

_Delete it_, Sehun wants to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, wanting everything to be perfect.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Baekhyun stands at Sehun’s right at the check-in desk, busying himself with the warm cookie as Sehun handles the rest. They get a gift bag along with the key card, and Baekhyun takes the former as Sehun takes the latter, hiking their bags back onto their shoulders and heading for the elevator.

“This is nice,” Baekhyun says, looking back out into the lobby as the doors close. “You sure you don’t want me to Venmo you half?” 

“I’m sure,” Sehun says. “I made you come, so it’s only fair that I pay for it.” 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun snorts. “Such a chore, being with you.” 

Sehun hides a smile as they ride the rest of the way in silence, stepping off once they hit the fourth floor. 

“They’re running a shuttle,” Sehun says, the soft padding sound of their feet echoing in the hall. “So we can hang at the bar for a little before we head over.” 

“God, you’re hitting me with the hard sell,” Baekhyun says, and he hikes his bag up over his shoulder a little with a grin. “Sounds good.” He shoves his shoulder into Sehun’s as they walk, and Sehun shoves him back with a bit more force, sending him into the wall. “You _mother_fucker.” 

Sehun snickers as they reach the room, the card slid into the slot. 

“_Oh my god, they were roommates_,” Baekhyun quotes, and he puts his bag down on the left side of the king-sized bed, flouncing onto it happily. “This is nice.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, not sharing that he paid extra for the upgrade, “I’m pretty happy with it.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They spend an hour or two at the hotel bar, sipping slowly on gin and tonics that are light on the gin, idly watching tennis matches. Baekhyun lowers his voice, commentates as though he knows what he’s talking about, often calling the tennis ball “the green egg,” and Sehun goes warm as he laughs, listening intently for every little bit.

They walk into the garden hand in hand, and Sehun wipes his free hand on his trousers. He is still extremely nervous in the silent way he doesn’t show, still can’t manage to quiet his mind. There is so much that could go wrong, so much that could sour the occasion, and Sehun wants desperately for the whole affair to be nothing short of perfect. 

“You’re thinking too much,” Baekhyun says, and when Sehun turns to look at him, he is framed in golden light, in foliage and fodder for dreams. “Are you planning on proposing something?” 

“Proposing?” Sehun snorts. 

“Yeah,” he says, squeezing Sehun’s hand tightly in his. “I thought maybe it fit your whole general demeanor.” 

“And what exactly is _that_ supposed to mean?” 

They walk through gardens full of verdant life, blooming under the midday sun, and Sehun is overwhelmed by the beauty, the wonder of it all. Roses and sunflowers and tiger lilies… they all pale in comparison to Baekhyun. 

“You’re just… you possess an above average penchant for the dramatics.” He smiled brightly, mischievously, as he bumps his hip into Sehun’s. “Brat.” 

“I am _not_ a brat,” Sehun pouts. 

“Only a brat would have said it like that.” 

Sehun scoffs, faux put-upon, but the ribbing is worth the way Baekhyun throws his head back and laughs like hell. He would do just about anything to see Baekhyun smile like that, laugh like that. It gives him a shining hope in the center of his chest, bright like a star, and he leans over as they approach the countless rows of chairs, kissing Baekhyun on his blushing cheek. 

He sputters, seemingly shocked, and he slaps the side of his face with a palm. 

“What was that for?” 

“I dunno,” Sehun says, and his hold on Baekhyun’s hand strengthens, like he’s trying to hold them both together. “Just like it when you’re happy.” 

They grab two paper hand fans, cream and gold, and they are printed with the program for the proceedings. They are led to open seats by a nice young man, and when they are finally seated, hands still laced together, Baekhyun looks deeply into Sehun’s eyes. 

“What?” Sehun prompts. 

“Just thinking,” Baekhyun says. “If you like it when I’m happy, you must be having a fucking blast right now.” 

Sehun’s heart swells in his chest, too big to contain, and his lips split into a smile before he even gives himself permission. Baekhyun closes the distance between them as the sun starts to lower in the sky, as the seats steadily fill, as the instrumental music floats romantically overhead. 

He presses his lips to Sehun’s chastely, and that alone feels like a promise, though he can’t say for certain whether it’s the vows that will soon fly through the air or not. 

He is slow to pull back, but he is biting his lip when he does, like he’s holding back a secret, sitting sweetly on his tongue, ready to spill out. 

“Brat,” Baekhyun says. 

“Yeah,” Sehun admits. “As long as I’m with you.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
The wedding is beautiful, as most are, and he feels a distant sort of yearning in his chest when the couple holds hands through the vows, when they slide the rings onto each other’s fingers, when they kiss and the meadow is filled with cheers.

He and Baekhyun walk to the reception, fingers tangled through the other’s, and Sehun’s hand still sweats in the heat, but once they get to the barn, all that falls away. They hurriedly take to the bar before everyone else, tipping generously for their hearty pours of white wine in slightly fluted glasses. Baekhyun makes the sweetest little noises as he sips at it, pulled by the hand as Sehun drags him over to check where they’re seated. 

They stand and cheer for the bride and groom during the first dance, during the toasts, and by the time the food comes out, they’ve switched to red wine. They both chose the steak option for dinner, and Sehun thanks God for it, tender, flavorful cuts of filet grilled and served with a mushroom bordelaise sauce, sides of buttery garlic mashed potatoes and honey-maple roasted carrots. Baekhyun manages to make friends with the rest of the folks at the table, people Sehun used to call close friends back in college. They’ve all moved away, and the correspondence has worn thin, but still, Sehun likes to see the way Baekhyun can adapt, can fit himself into the smallest of places. 

When their plates are cleared and everyone from the table leaves to dance, Sehun is full, pleasantly drunk, and he can feel the heat in his cheeks as he stares at Baekhyun. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Baekhyun says, patting his stomach as he leans back in his chair, “I am going to pop.” 

“Don’t do that,” Sehun whines. “Don’t die.” 

Baekhyun leans over, an arm slung around the back of Sehun’s chair. He presses a slow kiss to Sehun’s lips, and it feels… it feels so comfortable and good. Sehun wonders if this is what it could be like all the time if Baekhyun would let them be this way, indulgently romantic and so wrapped up in each other that the regular struggles of life seemed far less burdensome. 

“Not dying tonight,” Baekhyun says with goofy little grin. “We’ve got too much to do.” 

It immediately starts a fire in the pit of Sehun’s stomach, wild and cloudy, churning and aching with want. 

“Yeah?” He leans in, closing the small gap between them, pressing them together in another soft kiss, lazily playing with the ends of Baekhyun’s hair at the nape of his neck. “Like what?” 

“I don’t wanna spoil the surprise,” Baekhyun says softly, and his eyes lower from Sehun’s, staring wantonly at Sehun’s mouth. “Where’s the fun in that?”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
The rest of the night passes by like strobing light, and he and Baekhyun get progressively more deliberate in their seduction of each other as the number of guests goes from big to small.

Baekhyun twists in Sehun’s grip, his hips flat against Sehun’s in the most delicious way. He is just on the edge of drunk, and he smiles up, arms around Sehun’s neck and clinging. There is a thin layer of sweat on both of them, something they share in the stuttering colored lights. The music is loud, old classic rock, top 40s pop, and ballads. Sehun doesn’t care what the music sounds like, doesn’t care about the beat, not so long as Baekhyun keeps doing what he’s doing, winding Sehun up like there’s no one else there, like they’re alone in the room, in the country, in the universe. 

“Move your hands,” Baekhyun whispers as the beat switches from sweet and soft to grinding, a halting rhythm that should be saved for the end of the night. 

Sehun’s had his hands on Baekhyun’s waist for a while now, gently rocking them against each other, and it’s comfortable, basic but inherently good. Sehun starts to move his hands back to Baekhyun’s waist, but Baekhyun reaches down, grabs his wrist in a loose grip. 

“No,” Baekhyun whispers, eyes hot and purposeful. “Down.” 

Sehun breathes in sharply, and his hands skim down Baekhyun’s body, slipping over the fabric of his dress shirt, and the lights are low and his brain works slowly with arousal and alcohol, that’s the only reason he lets himself touch Baekhyun so lewdly, petting over his ass, sipping up the sounds he leaks out. 

“I want you so badly,” Baekhyun says, and he’s got wet lips, a dangerous look in his eye. “I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want you right now.” 

“We should go to the hotel room,” Sehun says, and he drags their bodies impossibly closer, heart to heart. “The shuttle is still running, right?” 

“Maybe we’ll get it all to ourselves.” He smiles, tickles his fingertips against the back of Sehun’s neck. “Maybe we can be adventurous.” 

“If as adventurous as we get is an Advil and a bottle of water before we fuck each other into the mattress, then I’m down,” Sehun says. 

Baekhyun pushes up on his toes, tongue slipping into Sehun’s mouth like a promise of what’s to come. 

“You make it sound so hot,” he whispers coyly. “Being responsible and shit.” 

“It will be hot, if we ever get there.”

Baekhyun takes his challenge, pulls him off by the wrist. 

They walk hand in hand to the shuttle, giggling drunkenly to themselves as they go, and Sehun’s heart soars in the moment. He’s never felt more settled, more complete, and as Baekhyun looks back over his shoulder, pulling him along, Sehun realizes that if things break bad between them, it won’t feel like every other time. It won’t be as easy to pick back up and move on. That he might be stuck on this, stuck on Baekhyun, for a while after he’s gone. 

The shuttle is indeed empty when they get on, and the driver is a nice man named Carl who informs them that they have boarded the last shuttle for the evening. He talks to them about his kids, and Baekhyun manages to talk back, but Sehun is too wired, too fascinated and aroused by the way Baekhyun’s inner thigh flares out. He strokes fingers along the line of it, and he watches as Baekhyun tries to steady himself, steady his voice as he discusses the virtues of community college over state schools. 

They step off the shuttle, Baekhyun handing Carl a tip with a smile, and once they’re on the ground, he waves to them. 

“Have a good night, gentlemen,” he says, and then, knowingly, “be safe.” 

Sehun barks out a surprised laugh, and Baekhyun pulls him away with a quick, “Thanks, Carl!” thrown backwards over his shoulder. 

They stumble through the lobby, and when Sehun catches a glimpse of them in the mirrored surface of the elevator doors, his whole body is pulled taut like the string of a bow. 

They look fucked up. They look like they’ve been kissing, touching each other. His own hair, so deliberately styled, is now a mess, finger-mussed. Baekhyun’s mouth is red, but his eyes are clear, and he stares into Sehun’s eyes through the reflection. 

It is then that the elevator doors part, and they find it blessedly empty. Baekhyun leads him inside. 

They stand in silence as the doors close, as Sehun prods the small _4_ and makes it light up, and they hold that silence between them as the doors close much slower than they opened. Or maybe it’s just his imagination. 

Baekhyun presses him back into the metal railing, mouth against Sehun’s, and he barely has time to think before he is kissing him back, sharing in a moan. Baekhyun’s hands glide over the fabric of his shirt, and the touch skims over his skin, delicious in its own right, but not nearly enough. It is hungry, ruthless, and it is a kiss that will kill him if he lets it. He fell so fast, so thoughtlessly, and now he is in the thrall, in the eye of Baekhyun’s storm. 

It feels as though the doors open a second after they close, and they regretfully part. Sehun steps forward first, offering Baekhyun his hand after he’s stepped into the hallway, and Baekhyun stares at it for a second before he takes it, follows Sehun out just as the doors begin to close once more. 

The walk to their room feels sobering, but Sehun still manages to fumble with the keycard as he inserts it into the slot, waiting until the light goes green before pushing inside. The nerves make his hands shake as he sits on the side of the bed, sliding out of his shoes. 

“Do you want water?” he asks, watching as Baekhyun watches him. 

Baekhyun smiles, glancing at the mini-bar before walking over, fingers dancing over the little sheet of cardstock. “Five dollars for a water bottle, Jesus _Christ_.” He looks back, grinning at Sehun. “Am I worth it?” 

Sehun resists the urge to let his eyes slip down the lines and curves of Baekhyun’s body, choosing instead to look into Baekhyun’s eyes, see all the warmth he carries there. 

“All the Dasani in the world,” Sehun says. 

Baekhyun cracks the seal on the water, swallowing half before tossing it underhand over to where Sehun sits at the edge of the bed. He finishes the water, throwing it into the garbage can in the corner of the room, and then he looks back, sees Baekhyun watching him, hawklike and hungry. 

“Get up,” Baekhyun says, and Sehun is quick to obey. “Get over here.” 

Sehun crosses the gap between them, and he stretches out a hand, pulls Baekhyun to his body. There is an apprehension, a tentativeness, but it breaks, shatters as they kiss. This is familiar. This is certain. 

They are careless with their expensive clothes but so incredibly careful with each other, each touch softer, hotter than the last. It's like they are touching artwork, something illicit and wrong, but so enticing, fingers over ridges of paint and the worn velvety feel of marble.

Baekhyun kisses and licks at Sehun's neck as he unbuttons Sehun's shirt, pulling the tuck from his pants, unbuckling his belt before even pushing the shirt off Sehun's shoulders. It is unfocused, meandering, and it feels like something, feels like a moment. Sehun closes his eyes and moans, fingers finally threaded through Baekhyun's hair, nails scratching gently at his scalp. Baekhyun hums against the hollow of Sehun's throat, and the vibrations reverberate through him deliciously.

Their bodies rock absently against each other, towards the other like they cannot stop, like this is and always was inevitable, them in this hotel room, mouths wet with wine and affection, the lights low and romantic, the promises of forever, the thumping bass still ringing in their ears. Sehun brings Baekhyun to his lips, and their kiss grows in heat and desperation, the lust thick in the air, hanging over them like fog. 

When they are finally down to just their underwear, fabric pooling at their feet, Sehun realizes that he wants and wants deeply. And in order to make that happen…

“Oh, fuck, I…” 

“What?” Baekhyun asks, and his mouth is even redder than before, more used, more loved. 

Sehun kisses him again, again. And again. 

"Give me a minute, okay?" Sehun asks, and he pulls away from Baekhyun's body, their hands still tangled together. "Just a minute."

"No," Baekhyun whines. "I don't wanna wait."

"You _have to_." He knows he's whining back, but he is just as eager for it as Baekhyun, and every second that they argue is a second they're wasting, a second that Baekhyun could be buried inside him. "Please, I just have to..."

"Let me help," Baekhyun says, and he walks them back until Sehun's back is pressed up against the bathroom door. "Just a quick one, it'll go faster if I help you."

The thought of Baekhyun there with him as he—he's too embarrassed to even think the words, and he’s shocked that Baekhyun, of all people, has offered.

"No, oh my god, no," he says, and he shoves Baekhyun back by the shoulders until Baekhyun stumbles with a laugh. "No help."

"Aren't we close enough for that?" Baekhyun says. "Mr. Lactose Intolerance?"

Sehun's face goes so hot that he can see the redness on the tops of his cheeks, and he hurriedly opens the bathroom door, closing it behind him, a wall between him and Baekhyun's laughter.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He works as thoroughly as he can manage, the shower and sink running and the fan turned on, and his hands shake as he washes them once he’s finished, grey boxer-briefs tugged back on, everything clean and pristine.

Sehun walks back into the room, and the travel-size aluminum bottle of lube is prominent on the covers. Baekhyun is lying next to it on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he idly strokes against the front of his black underwear, the shape of his hard cock evident through the material. He stands there silently as he watches, voyeuristic in a way that he’s never felt before. Baekhyun trails light fingers along his length, looking up at the ceiling fan as though he’s solving the great mysteries of the universe, like those mysteries turn him on. 

“What are you doing?” Sehun finally asks, and Baekhyun is slow to sit up, relishing in the moment. 

“Nothing,” Baekhyun says, and he continues to stroke himself softly. “Waiting for you.” 

“Well, I’m here,” Sehun says, and he feels bratty, feels desperate in that way he hates. 

“Yeah.” Baekhyun smiles, stands up. Crosses to him. “You’re here.” 

He pulls Sehun down by the jaw until their lips meet, and he decimates him, brings him down to the nothing before pushing him up so high, so fucking high that Sehun can’t even see the ground anymore. 

They stand there, connected in all ways but one, and when Baekhyun’s hands skim down Sehun’s flanks, down to ghost over his ass, he shivers mightily. 

“Sensitive,” Baekhyun whispers. 

“Don’t act brand new,” Sehun whispers back. 

They are tangled in each other, touching and feeling and tasting, and Sehun lies on the bed, pillows under his head, and Baekhyun crawls over him, eyes wet with heat. 

He peels Sehun’s underwear from his body, legs in the air and resting against Baekhyun’s shoulder as he pulls the scrap of fabric off and tosses it aside. His hands stroke along Sehun’s ankles, down his calves, down the backs of his thighs, and it all feels so fucking reverent, like he’s putting some kind of meaning into this. 

Sehun moans. 

Baekhyun lowers his legs down to the bed, spreads them lewdly, and he crawls between them, erection still covered, still hidden away, and Sehun moans again as he looks at him, unraveling but still so in control. 

His hands move over Sehun’s naked body, kneading the flesh of his thighs, holding him tightly by the hips. He looks down at Sehun like he is in love with him, with all the light in the world in his gaze. 

"Touch me," Sehun begs, and he brings Baekhyun's hands to his bare chest, placing them where he wants them. "Please, I—"

"I know," Baekhyun whispers, and his back arches, ass high in the air as he kisses up Sehun's stomach. "I know you want it."

Sehun can't keep his body still as Baekhyun plays with him, toys with him, fingertips pressing into him like he's shaping clay. Sehun groans brokenly as Baekhyun licks the cut of his hip bones, following the v with his mouth. When Baekhyun finally kisses the head of his cock, his body bows back on instinct. 

“What?” Baekhyun asks, and Sehun looks down at him, bites his lip when he already feels his orgasm cresting. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m… can you just stretch me?” he asks, well-aware of how whiny he sounds, well-aware of the tremor in his voice.

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, and his hand comes up to circle the base of Sehun’s cock, tightly squeezing once and then twice before skimming down to brush his fingertips against Sehun’s balls. “Whatever you want.” 

_No,_ Sehun thinks. _Whatever you want. I want to give you everything._

Baekhyun’s touch is wet when it returns to him, and it plays at his hole. Sehun shuts his eyes, head thrown back, and he can’t get used to it, no matter how many times they do this, no matter how many different ways they do it, it is blisteringly hot. He can’t understand how Baekhyun always manages to make him feel like it is the first time, like they are doing something new, doing it together.

Baekhyun’s fingers sink into him, sucked in with a moan, and he lets himself focus it, anything else besides the way Baekhyun kisses the head of his cock, licks and sucks at the tip. He breathes through it, breathes through the trembling heat in his stomach that begins to radiate through his arms and legs, and he tenses, clenches down on Baekhyun’s fingers. 

“Feel good?” Baekhyun asks, and he moves, begins to suck marks to the insides of Sehun’s thighs. 

Sehun doesn’t trust his voice not to shatter as soon as he uses it, so he nods weakly, legs hitching up tighter to his body as he tries to relax. 

They have experience in this, and while that usually means auto-pilot, Sehun finds himself hyper-aware of everything Baekhyun does, every little fucking movement like an earthquake. He burns up on the bed, sweat tickling on his scalp as he moans Baekhyun’s name, eager for the rest of him. But Baekhyun takes his time, touches him the way he’s learned is best. 

“Please,” Sehun moans, and he doesn’t care if he sounds desperate. He _is_ desperate. “Please, I wanna—”

“You’re not ready yet,” Baekhyun teases, but he _is_ ready, and he whimpers high in his throat, feels it vibrate through him. “Stop whining. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Sehun says. “I promise, you won’t.” Baekhyun scissors his fingers before adding a third finger, and Sehun moans as he strokes up and in, up and in, petting along his prostate with reckless abandon. “Oh, f-fuck, I—”

And that’s as far as he gets before it dissolves into soft sounds of pleasure, his body pulled tight as he comes, stuttering heat, pouring out over his stomach weakly as he fruitlessly tries to hold it back. 

Baekhyun pauses once Sehun’s through the thick of it, his touch stilling inside Sehun’s body, and Sehun catches his breath, licking his lips before nodding his head. Baekhyun withdraws, wipes Sehun clean with a washcloth that he laid out. He lies next to Sehun when he’s finished, cuddling them close. 

“What are you doing?” Sehun asks, looking up at him. “Put on a condom.” 

“Nap,” Baekhyun says. “It’ll hurt if I fuck you now. You’re too sensitive.” 

“I’m not,” Sehun argues pointlessly. 

“You are.” He puts his hand on the back of Sehun’s head, gently directs Sehun to lie on his chest. “In a little, okay? Once it’ll be good for both of us.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
The room is dark and there is a thin sheet pulled over them when Sehun opens his eyes, and Baekhyun is staring at the ceiling again, tracing invisible constellations. For a moment, Sehun simply watches him, looking for a change in his expression. He looks tired, looks like he wants to fall asleep, too. _Why didn’t you rest with me?_

“How long did I sleep?” Sehun wonders. 

“An hour,” Baekhyun says, and he doesn’t look down to meet Sehun’s gaze. “You can go back to sleep, we don’t have to—” 

“No,” Sehun says. “I mean, not unless… not unless you don’t want to.” 

It’s that, that little insecurity that gets Baekhyun’s attention. His eyes meet Sehun’s easily then, and he smirks. 

“I want to.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of Sehun’s forehead. “Just didn’t wanna wake you or anything. You look so peaceful when you sleep.” 

“Shut up,” Sehun says, vaguely embarrassed to have been watched while asleep. 

Baekhyun looks at him, and Sehun looks back, their eyes caught, and he is slow to close his eyes when he presses a kiss to Sehun’s lips. 

“No.” 

They fall together, their bodies twisting between the sheets, and when Baekhyun finally pushes inside him, the wet heat they generate makes Sehun gasp, makes Baekhyun lower his head on a moan. 

Sehun clings to him, wraps his legs around Baekhyun's body, and it has lost all the eager need from before. When all that’s stripped away, when it’s all tossed into the fire, all that is left is the two of them, him and Baekhyun, the gentleness and the easy affection. They call each other’s name like refrains, and the morning breaks over them before the sun even rises.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Sehun wakes second, and his mouth is dry as he searches the bed for Baekhyun. He sits up with bleary eyes, rubs them absently, and he hears the shower running. Not wanting to miss his window of opportunity, he gets up as quickly as he can manage, hurriedly walking to the bathroom.

He knocks at the closed door, says “Baekhyun?” and waits. 

The water is shut off sharply, and then, within the next minute, Baekhyun’s dripping wet face appears where the door opens just a sliver. 

“Hi,” he says with a smile, “sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“No, you’re fine,” Sehun says, and his eyes scan down to where Baekhyun has the towel wrapped around his lower half. “I was gonna get in with you.” 

“Ah.” Baekhyun grins. “Sorry.” He opens the door all the way, steps through it, hurrying past Sehun with a twist in his hips. He towels off once he’s at the foot of the bed, and Sehun watches as he does so, watches the towel drop uselessly to the floor when he’s finished. He steps into his underwear and his sweats, shrugging a shirt over his head, and he turns when he’s finished, looking at Sehun. “Are you… are you planning on watching me all day or…?” 

“N-No,” Sehun says, shaking his head with a smile. “Sorry, I’ll go shower.” 

Baekhyun turns back, a curve on his mouth, and Sehun shuts the door behind him, back against the door. 

_God_, he thinks, _nothing’s changed._

He can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They eat breakfast at the hotel, waffles absolutely destroyed with maple syrup and butter, and they share a bowl of watermelon and cantaloupe. It’s okay if nothing feels like it’s changed, he figures. It’s all right to take things slowly, and he remembers that Baekhyun did warn him that it might take a long time. He’s willing to wait.

Sehun drops Baekhyun off with a kiss, hand braced on the steering wheel, leaning over into the passenger’s seat, staring up at Baekhyun through the open window. 

“Thanks,” Baekhyun says, hands clutching his backpack. “I had a really nice time.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, sick with how much he means it. “Me too.” 

“Call me when you get home, okay? Let me know you got there safe.” 

“I will,” Sehun says. “We need naps after.”

“Ugh, yes,” Baekhyun groans happily, turning towards the door, throwing his “Later!” over his shoulder like a scarf. 

Sehun watches as he goes, only pulling away once he’s safely inside. He drives over to Chanyeol’s, and when he gets there, he shoots him a text: _here_. 

Chanyeol comes down to grab the keys, and he starts laughing when he sees Sehun. 

“What?” he asks. “What’s so fucking funny?” 

“Nothing,” Chanyeol says with a smile. “Just— you look… very tired. Very worn out.” 

“Shut up.” He throws the keys at Chanyeol, starts to walk in the vague direction of his apartment. 

“Next weekend,” Chanyeol warns, shaking his fist. “Tell your boy. We’re fucking _meeting_. We will be _brunching_ whether he likes it or not.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He worries all week about it despite the fact that Baekhyun seems not to worry at all.

“If he’s friends with you, he’s a nerd,” Baekhyun says with a smile, legs kicked up on Sehun’s coffee table like he owns the place. “And if he’s a nerd, then no worries.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes as he grabs Baekhyun’s box, handing it over as Baekhyun beams up at him. 

“You should be more concerned,” Sehun says. “He’s always got some sort of thing. Some sort of plan.” 

Baekhyun cackles as he lifts his cheesesteak to his mouth, sinking his teeth into it and coming away with a moan. 

“This is Chanyeol we’re talking about right?” Baekhyun asks, mouth full and muffled. 

“Yeah.” 

He swallows thickly, gesturing with half of his cheesesteak. “The same Chanyeol that once drank a stranger’s leftover beer in Disney World?” 

“You can’t tell him I told you that,” Sehun says. “That was supposed to be a secret.” 

Baekhyun snorts, and Sehun sits next to him on the couch, his own cheesesteak in hand. 

“I think I’ll be okay, babe,” Baekhyun says, and before Sehun’s heart can start doing back handsprings in his chest, he kicks Sehun with his foot. “Put on _QI_, asshole. I think we’re finally at F.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They walk over the next morning, the brunch place relatively close to Sehun’s place. They get there late, though, Baekhyun busy criticizing Sehun’s outfit, and when they arrive, Chanyeol has his arms folded across his chest. He looks down his nose at Baekhyun as the waitress brings them water.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this energy,” Baekhyun says. “Did I _do_ something to you?” 

“No,” Chanyeol says, tightening his arms, “not yet.” 

Baekhyun leans forward onto his elbows. “Is this one of those _if you touch my daughter, I’ll kill you_ type of things?” He grins, like he’s picturing it. “Are you gonna threaten me?” 

“I don’t think I have to now.” He smiles tightly. “Unless, of course, you need a clearer picture of your own demise in the event that you hurt my literal flesh-and-blood son.” 

“Stop calling me that,” Sehun says, and he sinks down in his chair. 

“I’m always better with vivid imagery,” Baekhyun says. “Try me.” 

“I will tear your fingernails off with my teeth,” Chanyeol says.

Baekhyun wrinkles his nose. “Gross.” He sips at his water. 

“Please, I’m just getting started,” Chanyeol says. “I will buy several hundred spiders from Amazon, and I will set them loose in your apartment. I will drain your lube bottle, and I will fill it with super glue. I will sign your address up for _so. Many. Televangelist mailing lists._” 

“Okay, I understand,” Baekhyun says. “No need to get cruel.” 

“_That_?” Chanyeol screeches. “_That_ would only be the beginning. I have so much creativity, and I have no outlet. I’ve been thinking about taking up watercolors, but I swear to Christ, if you harm this boy—” and he jabs a finger in Sehun’s direction, “I will chase you. I will hunt you as the shadow of death hunts us all. And I will unleash all my creativity on you in the worst, most terrible ways.” 

“Understood.” 

“Good,” Chanyeol smiles, and he sticks out his hand over the tabletop, shaking Baekhyun’s hand goofily. “I’m so happy to finally meet you! Sehun talks about you all the time.” He withdraws, sips at his water before picking up his menu. “He says you’re in finance? Does that mean, like, you’re a capitalist monster?” 

Baekhyun looks over at Sehun with a glimmer of joy in his eyes, and Sehun hides a smile, searching through the list of Eggs Benedict and avocado toast.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It ends up being a pretty pedestrian occasion, and Baekhyun and Chanyeol get along really well after the initial rough patch. He knew that they would; he just wasn’t sure how long that initial rough patch would last, what with Chanyeol’s threats.

He and Baekhyun go back to his place after, and Baekhyun packs up his things from their sleepover, clothes strewn about Sehun’s bedroom, Baekhyun’s toothbrush and deodorant in Sehun’s bathroom. They watch more _QI_, they piss around for most of the day, and before he knows it, they are ordering in, the sun setting on their Sunday as they eat Pad Thai on Sehun’s couch. 

Still, he can’t shake the strange nerves from earlier in the morning, and even as Baekhyun is thinking out loud about the world’s largest organ, he cannot ignore it. 

“What’s with you?” Baekhyun asks, and he slides a little lower in his seat against Sehun’s side, the pressure warm and inviting. “You’re so quiet.” 

“Nothing,” Sehun says. “Just… just thinking, I guess.” 

“Not about the _quiz_, you haven’t answered a question yet.” Sehun smiles at him, and Baekhyun smiles back, reaching out to poke Sehun in the cheek. “What’s up?” 

“It wasn’t… I mean, it wasn’t weird, was it?” Sehun says. “I asked him to tone it down with that stuff, but obviously, he’s—”

“Hey,” Baekhyun interrupts. “It’s fine. He was cool. Anybody would get like that over their friend. And… and I don’t blame him, you know? I mean, I’m sure you’ve told him about stuff about me, so I get why he would be,” and he looks down, vaguely shamed, body suddenly very tense, “protective.” 

“N-No,” Sehun says quickly, “no, it’s been like this with everyone I’ve ever dated, it’s not, like, it’s not just you. It’s not that he thinks you’re… I don’t know, it’s not like he thinks you’re _anything_.” 

Baekhyun relaxes against him, the tension unthreading, and Sehun slumps down in his seat, too. 

“It’s okay if… like, I’m not going to tell you that you can’t talk about us,” Baekhyun says. 

“No, that’s… no, I just, you know, I want you to feel comfortable around him.” 

Baekhyun looks up at him, and he looks at Sehun’s lips for a minute, and then a minute more before leaning in, kissing Sehun so sweetly that he can almost taste the sugar. 

“I do,” Baekhyun says. “As long as you’re there, I’m good.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Sehun wants desperately for what they have to last, but he knows that things are too good to be true. They won’t last like this, precariously balanced, teetering with every gentle breeze. They’ve struck such a delicate understanding between the two of them, but every time Sehun thinks about asking for more, asking for… for what he _thinks_ they ought to be, he starts to feel vaguely ill.

“You look constipated,” Chanyeol says, and he combs his fingers through Sehun’s hair. “What’s wrong, baby? Tell daddy what’s up.” 

“Please stop trying to make me call you daddy. Don’t even call yourself daddy,” Sehun says, and he lays his head on Chanyeol’s chest before amending his statement. “Actually, you can call yourself daddy in the privacy of your own bedroom, not the privacy of _mine_.” 

Ever since their brunch together, Chanyeol has become determined to spend as much time with Sehun as possible, so they set up a sleepover, both of them reclined on his bed. 

“Stop kinkshaming me as a form of self-preservation.” He continues to pet through Sehun’s hair, scratching his scalp. “What’s on your mind?” 

“Usual shit,” Sehun says. “Work. Boys.” 

“Correction,” Chanyeol says. “Boy.” 

“Yeah. Boy.” 

“What’s up?” His words echo against Sehun’s ear, a pleasant vibration. “I thought things were going good since the wedding.” 

“They have been,” Sehun says, and he tightens his arm around Chanyeol’s body as though he’s hugging a teddy bear. “I just… I feel unsettled.” 

“Unsettled how?” Chanyeol prods. “Like, what, is he doing some bedroom activities you aren’t comfortable with?” 

“God, no, not everything is about sex.” 

Sehun looks up at Chanyeol who tilts his chin, considering. 

“True,” he says before refocusing. “Unsettled how?” 

“I don’t know,” Sehun says. “Like, unfulfilled?” 

“Why? Because you aren’t, what, labeled?” 

Sehun shrugs, buries his face. “Is that so bad? To want to have a label on things? To call him, like, my boyfriend?” He feels very childish in that moment, like a kid who has been told that he _isn’t_, in fact, a superhero. That superheroes don’t exist, and that it’s a stupid thing to believe in them. 

“Nah, it’s not bad,” Chanyeol says, and he resettles in bed, Sehun jostling along with him. “I just think… I don’t know, I think labels matter because they help us to talk about things.” 

“Right,” Sehun says. “Right, yeah, that’s what I mean.” 

“And when you talk about relationship labels, you’re talking about, like some scary stuff, right?” Chanyeol says. “You’re talking about _Do we love each other in the same way? Do we expect the same things from each other? Do we both have plans for the future that involve each other?_” 

“Yes,” Sehun says. “Yeah, and I wanna—I don’t know _what_ I want, the label isn’t more important than _him_, than like, what’s between us, but shouldn’t we at least, like, have the conversation? Shouldn’t we be open enough by now that, like, I know if he’s fucking other people?” His throat goes tight even at the suggestion. “That I know if he’s gonna ghost me at some point?” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and his hand comes to Sehun’s shoulder, rubs comfortingly. “It’s fucking scary, I know.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun agrees. “It is.” 

“Maybe sometime soon, bring it up,” Chanyeol says. “And not in, like, an antagonistic way or anything, just like, _Hey, we should talk about this so we’re both on the same page._ You know, very casual.” 

Sehun can’t think of anything less casual when it comes to Baekhyun.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They fuck around, they go to work, they sleep in each other’s beds, and they never say the words they should.

Weeks pass, and the summer breaks over them hot and fast. The seasons change quickly now, not slowly like they did when they were young, and overnight, the spring has died, given way to sticky, humid heat. 

Sehun turns up his air conditioning as high as he can afford, and he sits on the couch, thinking about the way his life has changed since that night at McGillins, brushing up against someone he never even spoke to again. Nearly ten months, and he’s fallen in love, fallen just like the seasons changing now, red to blue, blue to red with barely any grey in-betweens. 

It is dead in the heart of July when Baekhyun asks Sehun to dinner, a new Italian place they’ve never gone to before. 

“We always go the same places,” Baekhyun says, voice tinny over the line. “We should try something new every once in a while, don’t you think? Like, every other Friday do dinner at some fancy pants place, get wasted on carbs, then come back to my place and sixty-nine?” 

Sehun laughs, sharp at the end. 

“Sounds good,” Sehun says. “So, Friday into Saturday?” 

“You could stay Saturday into Sunday, if you wanted,” Baekhyun offers, like it’s something, like all these little things add up to something big. “I kinda wanted to do some of that food prep shit you’re always on about.” 

“Has Chanyeol been sending you recipes?” 

Baekhyun groans. “You know that he has been.” He lets out a twinkling laugh, like summer stars, but it blinks away. “If you have shit to do, though—”

“No,” Sehun says quickly. “This weekend works for me.” 

There is a happy sound passed over to him, and Sehun takes it, puts his phone on speaker as he jots Baekhyun down into his calendar: _weekend at baek’s_

“Sounds good,” Baekhyun says. “I’m penciling you in as we speak.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
It is the fourth law of thermodynamics, or at least, Sehun proposes it as such: when you’re looking forward to something, time passes so fucking slowly.

Work drags on like never before as he looks forward to Friday, as he thinks about how perfect an opportunity it will be to finally talk to Baekhyun about them, about what they mean to each other. 

When Friday finally arrives, his body is tight with nerves, and his head is full of buttercream. 

He thinks for most of the morning over what to say and how to say it. Baekhyun is a very sensitive person whether or not he'd like to admit it, and Sehun has to make sure that he's clear, concise, and offers no room for misinterpretation. 

_I love you, and I think we should be together._

That immediately gets crossed out on his mental list. It's too shackling. Too much like Sehun is trying to tie him down. And while it's certainly true, he _does_ love Baekhyun and he _does_ think they should be together, Sehun doesn't want to kill the conversation even before it begins.

_You mean a lot to me, and aren't we already together anyway?_ Better than the last, but still not great. The insinuation that they're doing everything couples do already would surely grate against Baekhyun's nerves. No one likes to be participating unknowingly in something they despise. No. That won't do at all. 

_Please. Just give me a chance._

_Maybe_, Sehun thinks. That might work. But just maybe.

His phone buzzes noisily on his desk, and he hurriedly grabs it, tucking it to his chest as he presses the power button quickly to silence the vibrations. He was really in his own little world for a moment there. Spying down, he looks to the text, sees Baekhyun's name, sees the preview of a picture, and _oh God, no_. 

Conspicuously, Sehun gets up from his desk, shoving his phone into his pocket, and he speedwalks to the bathrooms. Once he is safely within the confines of the stall, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, swipes the texts open, and sees exactly what he thought he would see. For a nude, it is relatively normal, run of the mill, but for some reason, that does not matter. It is Baekhyun, and therefore, it is the most beautiful, erotic thing that Sehun has ever seen. 

_can’t wait to see you, can you give me a teaser trailer_. 

Baekhyun has his pants pulled open, his cock hard and wet at the tip. His fist is tight around the base of his cock. Sehun's mouth waters, and he reaches down, strokes himself idly as he stares at the picture. It's been too long, it's already been too long, and he wants to feel the wet warmth of Baekhyun around him, his hardness deep inside him. He wants to feel Baekhyun's hands tight on his hips. He wants to feel Baekhyun's breath against his neck. He wants to feel their bodies tense and shiver together. He wants them to be together. God, it's all he wants. 

He bites his lip as he unbuttons his pants, pausing for a moment to listen. The room empties, the door swinging closed, and he hurriedly pulls himself to his full hardness. He focuses on keeping himself silent, spitting a pool of saliva into his palm before he slides it over the head of his cock.

He moans as softly as he can manage, but unconsciously, he saves everything up for when he sees Baekhyun, and it’s been a long week. A long, long week. 

Sehun imagines the way they will hold each other later that very evening, maybe with whispered words of love stretched out from each of them, a little red string pulled tight. He imagines the way Baekhyun might kiss him, might touch him, purposeful and deft. Imagines the way Baekhyun might say his name like it is something to protect, something to cherish, something special to him. 

He is just about to spill over his fist when he presses record, and he keeps his moans quiet, just little puffs of breath echoing in the empty room as he comes.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Viva specializes in Italian cuisine, and over freshly baked bread and a glass of cheap red wine, Baekhyun discusses the latest drama at work. Sehun focuses, putting all thoughts of the conversation he wants to have out of his head, funnelling all his attention on Jen, her petty emails, and the fallout from said emails.

“What about you?” Baekhyun asks, and he kicks his foot forward, nudging up against Sehun’s. “You have a good day at work?” 

“Not terrible,” Sehun says, and he hooks his ankle around Baekhyun’s. “Didn’t get too much work done, weirdly enough.” 

“No?” Baekhyun leans forward on his elbows, and if Sehun weren’t anxious over picking his words, he would chastise him for it. Baekhyun smiles at him coyly, foot playing at the hem of Sehun’s pant leg. “What were you thinking about, baby? What had you so… _distracted_?”

“You are literally evil,” Sehun whispers, and he nods down at the menu on the table. “You know what you’re getting?” 

“They got lasagna?” 

“They do.” 

“I’m getting the lasagna,” Baekhyun says breezily. “Now tell me, what did you think of the picture?” 

“I really enjoyed it,” Sehun confesses. “So much so, in fact, that I had to delete it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “So maybe you’ll… maybe you’ll have to show me the real thing later.” 

“Oh, I think I can manage that,” Baekhyun says, the toe of his shoe stroking cleverly against the thin skin of Sehun’s ankle. “So you can commit it to memory.”

“I’d like that.” 

Baekhyun smiles at him, and Sehun gives him one back as they tangle their hands together over the table. It’s weirdly romantic, despite the conversation, and Sehun supposes it’s the setting. The low light, the gentle music, the warm colors of the interior… there’s a sconce on the wall behind Baekhyun’s head, and it gives him a halo of light around his dark hair, and Sehun feels so fondly, wants to… wants to tell him everything. Wants to spill his fucking guts. 

But he’s trying to be patient. He really is trying. It’s not really his style, this sort of free-wheeling, loosey goosey stuff, but he doesn’t want to push Baekhyun before he’s ready. He just thinks… how could they be more ready than this? Aren’t they already ninety percent of the way there, just by being them?

They discuss the latest win streak on _Jeopardy!_ over their pasta, homemade, salty and savory and delicious, and Sehun forgets all his anxiety about the evening. On a spiritual level, they understand each other. They work well together. They don’t have to be together forever, but they should spend as much time as possible inside this feeling, inside this small, bright joy. 

It is after dessert that Sehun finally works up the courage to say something. 

“Hey,” he says, and Baekhyun is staring at the check, only looks up when Sehun finishes with, “I think we should talk.” 

Immediately, he whips his head up, a deer in headlights, and he warily steps forward, closer towards the light. 

“Talk about what?” he asks. 

Sehun’s stomach fights against him, seems as though it wants as little to do with interpersonal discussion as possible. 

“About us,” Sehun answers. “Just, I don’t know, like about what we expect from each other.” 

Baekhyun’s brow twitches, and already, Sehun feels like he’s had a bad start. 

“What do you mean? Like, expectations about what?” 

“Expectations about, like, I don’t know, about our future.” 

Baekhyun sits up a little straighter in his seat, closing the check, folding his hands together. 

“I just think we should think about putting a label on this,” Sehun continues, and internally, he winces at the way it sounds. “And look, I know even the mention of the word _relationship_ makes you break into hives—,” and Baekhyun spits out a laugh that makes Sehun smile, “but I really think we should just… I don’t know, I think we should finally call us what we are, you know? We’ve been dancing around it for so long. It’s stupid to put it off any longer.” 

Baekhyun watches him across the table, and Sehun can’t begin to understand the expression on his face. It shifts, a thousand faces in the span of a minute, and _Oh_, Sehun thinks, _maybe I’ve made a mistake._

He has only a second or two to bring up the defenses, to steel himself for the words that come tumbling out of Baekhyun’s mouth. 

“Look, you’re—Sehun, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Baekhyun says, reaching across the table, and his hand on Sehun’s is as gentle as his words. “I like you a lot, but we’re not… I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of relationship. Not just with you, but… but with anyone.” 

Sehun makes a face. “_That kind of relationship_.” He takes Baekhyun’s hand in his, holds it, rubs his thumb against Baekhyun’s. “What _kind of relationship_? I mean… don’t you think we… aren’t we—” 

Baekhyun furrows his brow, smiles. “It’s not like you’re asking to be my _boyfriend_.” He takes his hand away from Sehun’s grasp. “Right? I mean, I told you. I was honest, right from the very beginning. If you waited, you’d be waiting a long time. We’ve—” 

He should have expected this. In some way, he _did_ expect this, long, long ago. But after all they’ve said to each other, after all they’ve done, it lacerates him, cuts him right down the belly. 

“I just thought we were… I mean, we were headed somewhere, weren’t we?” Sehun asks. “I mean, somewhere meaningful?” 

Baekhyun turns, aims an uncomfortable smile out towards the rest of the dining room. He wants to look anywhere but Sehun. He wants to escape. Sehun’s stomach spills out, all the upset, all the hurt leaking everywhere like bile. 

“We… we’re really good friends,” Baekhyun says finally, eyes snapping back to Sehun’s. “We’re good friends, and we have really good chemistry. Let’s not get bogged down like that. Let’s not make it anything more than what it is.”

“H-How could it not be more than that?” Sehun says. “I mean, I _know_ you feel it.” 

Baekhyun’s face goes hard and cold. “Hey. Don’t pretend like you know what I’m feeling.” He takes his water glass in his hand, holds it by the stem, and to Sehun’s eyes, it looks like he’s pretending, acting, like he’s reading off lines he heard from a soap opera. “Don’t act like you’re the one who’s going to change me. Like I’m something to fix.” 

“I never wanted to change you o-or fix you,” Sehun says weakly. “I just wanted to love you.” 

Baekhyun opens his mouth, but he shuts it soon after. He does not answer Sehun, does not even try. All he does is reach into his wallet, slipping cash into the check presenter before slipping away from the table himself. 

He does not say a word as he exits the restaurant, and Sehun is left to wonder where to go from there.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He is shell-shocked as he walks home, not even bothering for an Uber. He’s got so much on his mind, so much to think about. _Could this really be the end of Baekhyun and me? After everything we’ve gone through to get here? Should I have done something differently? Should I have chased after him? Is that what he wanted? Did I make the biggest mistake of my life by letting him walk away?_

No, Baekhyun wouldn’t want Sehun pestering him. He wouldn’t want Sehun running after him, begging to bring it back to where it all was before. He was looking for a way out before things got too deep, just like he said he always did before, and Sehun handed him the out over the fucking cannelloni. 

Before he realizes where he is going, what he is doing, he is standing out front of Chanyeol’s apartment, staring up at the building. Sehun huffs a breath, swallows his pride, and texts him. 

_im out front. can you come down_

Sehun stands there, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he waits, and in less than a minute, Chanyeol is standing there on the little porch, a headband pushing all his hair back, green eye masks under his eyes, an old pair of sweats slung low on his hips. 

“What the fuck? Are you dying?” Chanyeol asks. “What’s wrong? I thought you were going out with—,” and apparently the realization dawns on him, because his face crumples, a paper towel before you chuck it in the bin. “Oh, God. Did something happen?” 

“We’re done, I think,” Sehun says, and as he says the words, tears start to well in his eyes. He tries to choke it back, but the more the words sink in, the harder it becomes to keep control of himself. “I don’t think he’s gonna change his mind.” 

The sob seeps out of him the way water drips through cotton, bleeding and then dripping. 

Chanyeol scrambles forward, scuffing his slippers along the sidewalk and taking Sehun gently under his arm. 

“Baby, come inside,” Chanyeol says, ushering him towards the door. “Let’s get out of the street.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Chanyeol holds him as he cries, and it is embarrassing, of course, to be the messy one, but Chanyeol will only hold it over his head much later when it’s stopped hurting so fucking badly. He curls into his arms, lets his tears drop onto Chanyeol’s grey sweatpants, Chanyeol’s hand rubbing circles into Sehun’s back like he’s physically ill.

“He’s such a fucking moron,” Chanyeol says, a quiet anger in him. “Like, a real dumb bitch, I’m serious.” 

“No,” Sehun sniffs. “No, you don’t… you don’t get it.” 

“I don’t have to _get_ anything,” Chanyeol argues. “Anyone who makes you cry deserves a good ol’ fashioned Park beatdown. Remember I said? I fucking told him. It’s finally time to make good on some promises.”

The words make Sehun’s stomach hurt, make him ache. 

Sehun pushes back with a laugh, smiling at Chanyeol. “You’ve never hit anyone.” He punches Chanyeol in the shoulder. “Wait, have you?” 

“No, but this is the perfect opportunity to test my skills.” He offers Sehun a smile. “Better or worse?” 

“Better,” Sehun says. “Not… not good, but not as bad as before.” 

“Hey, that’s all we’re looking for,” Chanyeol says. “Not as bad as before.” 

Sehun returns the smile, watery, and he tries to think about anything besides the gaping hole in his chest, a gunshot wound the size of a collapsing star. 

Chanyeol holds him, doesn’t say much after that, and truly, Sehun appreciates it. It’s nice to not have to pretend like he knows what to say. It’s nice to not have to pretend like he knows how he really feels. It’s too complicated in his chest. All he can process is the word _hurt_. The physical comfort, the warmth… it is simple, but it is all he needs in that moment. 

It is much later when Chanyeol turns on the television, some noise that they can stare at as they recline, wrapped in the embrace. He navigates to Hulu, puts an episode of _Bob’s Burgers_ on, and turns the volume low. They watch a couple, laughing at some of the better bits, and after the third episode closes, Sehun is ready to talk. Maybe not about Baekhyun just yet, but… about something, if only to hear his own voice. 

“You ever think about… about back in college?” Sehun asks. 

Chanyeol looks at him, his lips curving. “Some parts.” He squeezes his arm around Sehun’s shoulder. “Why? You thinkin’ a lot about college these days?” 

“Sometimes.” 

He was in a relationship then, one that he thought would be his last. Sometimes he longs for that kind of security again. Sometimes he craves that dependability. Sometimes, it’s all he needs. Sometimes, it’s all he thinks about. 

“It’s better now,” Chanyeol says softly. “Promise.” 

Sehun looks at him, but Chanyeol is staring at the television. 

“What’s better about this?” Sehun asks. “Tell me.” 

Chanyeol turns his head slowly, looks at Sehun sadly. 

“You’re smarter now. You’re not going to let some asshole kill you.” 

“I feel like he’s killing me,” Sehun whispers. “I feel like this is gonna kill me.” 

Chanyeol knocks his forehead into Sehun’s. 

“Nah,” he whispers back. “I won’t let it.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
The water from the showerhead pitter-patters to the floor softly, and Sehun stands there, staring at the tile wall. Chanyeol was nice enough to offer it, so Sehun took him up on it, but now that he’s in the water, he regrets it. Chanyeol doesn’t have the dandruff shampoo he uses. Chanyeol uses 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Sehun eyes it, distinctly unsatisfied.

More than anything, though, he doesn’t know if he wants to get out. Getting out of the shower means having to talk more. Means sleeping next to Chanyeol when he should be sleeping next to Baekhyun. Means a stupid sleepover, like they’re thirteen-year-old girls and not men in their mid-twenties. Means acknowledging that he’s an absolute fucking moron. 

He doesn’t drown in it anymore than that. He uses Chanyeol’s 3-in-1 soap, and he washes himself clean, letting so much swirl down the drain along with the suds.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Chanyeol throws a pair of sweatpants at him before making a noise. He holds the sweatpants in his hands as Chanyeol’s eyebrow twitches.

“What?” Sehun says. 

“Those might be dirty,” he admits. 

“You got them out of your drawer.” 

“Occasionally,” Chanyeol says, leaning against his armoire, attempting to look casual, “I will pick up dirty clothes off the floor, smell them, and then make a judgment.” 

“And what judgment is that, you fucking gremlin?” Sehun says. 

“I judge whether or not they are dirty enough to outweigh my extreme laziness.” He smiles. “And oftentimes, their level of stink is not nearly high enough to make me wash them.” 

Sehun grimaces as he balls up the pants and throws them in the general direction of Chanyeol’s overflowing hamper before Chanyeol picks another pair of pants, throwing them over to Sehun. 

“Clean?” Sehun asks. 

“Super clean,” Chanyeol responds. 

“How many percent sure are you?” 

“One hundo, baby.” He smiles, nodding at Sehun’s legs. “Go ‘head. I mean, I love staring at your quads as much as the next boy, but I figure you probably wanna cover up a bit.” 

Sehun snorts, and he slides in one leg after the other, pulling them up until the elastic band snaps around his waist. They pull back the covers, and they slip underneath them, settling with their hands behind their heads. 

There is a moment of silence before Chanyeol obliterates it. 

“So, what’s his fucking deal?” Chanyeol asks. “Why’s he so… the way he is?” Sehun huffs out a laugh, just a harsh exhale of breath. “I’m serious, though. I don’t get it. I thought you guys were like… I mean, you _looked_—”

“I don’t know,” Sehun says, but he realizes immediately after he says it that it isn’t true. “I mean, I guess… I guess he’s been treated badly before. So now he has this complex.” 

“The _commitment issues_,” Chanyeol says. “And that’s, like, come on, babe, that’s the crux of the matter here. You want to spend forever with someone. He’s not interested in that.” 

“I think he _is_,” Sehun says. “But he just… he doesn’t let himself think about it because he’s too scared. He wants it, but he won’t let himself have it.” 

“It’s all the same in practice.” He frowns at Sehun as he turns onto his side. “And I don’t want it to be like that, but if he’s resisting so hard, maybe it’s… maybe you should _let_ him resist. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, you know? And that’s okay. It’s okay if it doesn’t work out.” 

Every other time, Sehun’s taken those words to heart. _But no,_ he thinks. _Not this time. This time it’s gonna work. It’s supposed to._  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He gives himself one day of _Gilmore Girls_-prescribed wallowing before he makes himself get back into the swing of things. He made the same mistake he always makes, got too invested and got too eager, ended up ruining things because he feels shit too deeply, loves too hard. But it’s not such a bad way to be, he thinks. He’d rather love hard than not love, than pretend he can’t love at all.

It is human, this part of him, beautifully human. At least, that’s what Chanyeol says. 

Sehun can’t act like it’s not strange to _not_ talk to Baekhyun regularly. Losing someone that you communicate with everyday feels like losing everything in a heavily frequented room in your house, the space so vacant and strange. _Something used to be here_, you can’t help but think. _Something big and filled with things. But now it’s empty._

Chanyeol sends him recipes, and he spends the weekend making Greek yogurt and cinnamon apple parfaits in mason jars for breakfast, healthy burrito bowls in his glass meal-prep containers. He lets his mind go blank as he chops and dices, stirs and ladles, and the act is strangely soothing, almost like meditation. 

He misses Baekhyun a little each day when he watches _Jeopardy!_, when Olivia asks about his weekend and then does something sweet, something he would normally tell Baekhyun. It feels weird closing the door on something that still feels open-ended, still feels so mutable. As much as he wants to reach out, apologize, ask if things can go back to how they were, he decides that he won’t. 

Chanyeol was right. There is a distinct possibility that they _aren’t_ meant for each other, no matter how right it felt. There is a chance that Sehun built up an idea of Baekhyun in his head that never existed in reality, sitting up on a pedestal that Sehun would never, _ever_ be tall enough to reach.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Sehun is at Yakitori Boy on Friday night, watching Chanyeol scream “Zombie” by the Cranberries. He has a Brawler in his hand, half a portion of takoyaki left in front of him on the bar. It is exactly one week since the falling out, and when Sehun’s phone vibrates on the bar, he half-expects it to be a notification for _Animal Crossing Pocket Camp_.

But it is not Isabelle. It is Baekhyun. And Sehun nearly fumbles the phone as he taps his password in to unlock it. The words he reads, he can’t decide if he loves them or hates them. 

_hey, im a fucking moron._

He stares down at the conversation, benign before it all went to hell, and then, he sees the telltale grey ellipsis pop up, and he holds his fucking breath. 

_whenever you get the chance, like, i know ur busy or whatever, but whenever ur free, can we talk??? idc if it’s text or phone or in person, whatever ur most comfortable with_

Sehun puts the phone down onto the bar, watches as the texts continue to pop up. 

_if u dont wanna talk to me, i fuckin get it, i wouldnt wanna talk to me either_

_like im really sorry. i hope i didnt fuck things up beyond recognition_

He stares at his phone, and the ellipsis continues for another moment before it disappears, and the texts stop coming. Sehun continues to look blankly down at the words, the ones that he dreamt about receiving, never actually thinking they would come. 

A hand claps him on the back, and he whirls around, sees Chanyeol with a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. 

“What’s with you?” he smiles. “Looks like you just signed your will or something.” 

Sehun grabs the phone off the bar, hands it to Chanyeol, sipping at his beer as Chanyeol’s eyes scan the screen. He grimaces a bit before handing it back, grabbing his beer from the bar. 

“Deal with him later,” Chanyeol says casually, and he wears a little line of foam on his upper lip before he licks it away. “I already signed you up for ‘More Than A Feeling.’” 

Sehun frowns before draining the rest of his beer. 

“You fucking know that’s out of my range,” he argues. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol smiles. “That’s what makes it so fun to watch.” He shoos Sehun off towards the stage. “Go on. Make Daddy proud.” 

“What did I _say_ about that?”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
He means to call, he really does. It’s just that, at this point, the emotions in him are still so raw and open that he thinks he might choke up and say something ridiculously off-message. He doesn’t want to close down their friendship now, not when they’ve gotten so close, not when Baekhyun became such an important person to him.

He writes it as simply as he can manage, a full six days after he received the texts, and he hopes he gets his point across. 

_hey, sorry it took me so long to respond, ive been trying to figure things out and i just wanted to say you dont have to apologize, obviously, like u didnt do anything wrong. i didnt mean to put you in an uncomfortable position, but i know i did especially when i know how u feel abt that kind of thing. im sorry. it was stupid of me. i dont want to lose you as a friend, and i hope we can at least go back to how it was before. you’re one of my best friends, and i love you._

He breathes out heavily after he hits send, throwing the phone onto the couch cushion next to him, laying his head against the backrest. He shuts his eyes, tries not to overanalyze or criticize himself too harshly. Maybe he rushed things a little bit, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be with someone. There’s nothing wrong with trying to show love and share love. 

The response surprises him, the vibration jolting him out of his thoughts. 

He lets his Face ID scan, and when he opens his conversation with Baekhyun, he thinks there must be a mistake. There’s no way he’s reading correctly. There is simply no way. 

_i love you too._

Before he even has time to recover from the first blow, the ellipsis is moving again, lighting up the bottom of his screen. 

_can we get together sometime soon?_

_to talk?_

Sehun debates asking Chanyeol for advice, but instead of waiting around, thinking and rethinking, typing and retyping, he goes with his gut, types out a simple _yes_, and they set up a time and place, seven o’clock next Wednesday at Franklin Square.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
The park is dense with people and sound, the sun just barely beginning to set over the city as Sehun arrives. He chooses a park bench that’s empty, close to the fountain, and when the breeze blows, he can feel the mist. He shoots Baekhyun a text, lets him know where he is, and he waits, people-watching until he sees Baekhyun approach.

He smiles when he sees him, unable to stop it, and he is happy when Baekhyun smiles back at him, sitting beside him on the bench, staring at the leaping water of the fountain. 

“I’m happy you came,” Baekhyun says, and he knocks his hand against Sehun’s where it is braced against the metal slats of the bench. 

The night is beautiful, balmy and sweet, and he too is glad that he came. 

“Well, you know me,” Sehun says. “Desperate.” 

And it makes Baekhyun scoff, shoving his shoulder into Sehun’s. Sehun likes that, likes that it isn’t so awkward that he can’t ever imagine it going back to platonic. It’s not what he wants, of course, but he could get used to it. He’s always had an easy way of falling back into friendship with exes, but it’s silly to view Baekhyun as an ex. They were never together, even though they felt more together than any of Sehun’s previous relationships combined. 

“Shut up.” 

They sit in silence for a moment or two, just watching children screech by, little fists clutching bubble wands as they run in dizzying circles. 

“So, I… God, I don’t even know how to say this,” Baekhyun says. “I’ve like, never had a serious conversation about relationships before.” 

“Never?” Sehun asks, and he searches Baekhyun’s face. “Really?” 

“Well, I guess once.” He stares down at their hands, so close together, almost touching. “It didn’t go very well, so I just sort of… I don’t know, stopped trying.” 

“I get it.” 

More silence, and it is so loud that it quiets everything else, makes Sehun forget that there is anyone else there. 

“I didn’t want this to happen,” Baekhyun says. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

Sehun breathes out. 

“It’s okay,” he says, and Sehun stares at the trees. “We don’t have to… I mean, you were right. You were clear from the beginning. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” 

“No,” Baekhyun says, and Sehun feels Baekhyun stroke a finger along his own. “No, I… I needed a push. I needed to think seriously about this.” 

Sehun looks back to him, looks at the sleep in his eyes. 

“Have you been thinking?” 

“Yeah. I have.” 

“Well?” Sehun prompts. “What have you been thinking?” 

Baekhyun breathes in, breathes out, giant pushes, his shoulders rising and falling before he speaks. 

“It’s just, like, I’ve never felt the way I felt when you looked at me,” Baekhyun says. “I’ve never felt like someone else’s sadness was mine. Like it fucking belonged to me.” He shakes his head back and forth with a shy smile. “Like, everything that happens to you happens to me, too. And when I… at the restaurant, I thought I was going to fucking die, even as it was happening, I thought, _Holy shit, I’m fucking up right now and I can’t even stop myself from doing it._” 

Sehun swallows thickly, the emotions rising up inside him as he remembers the way Baekhyun smiled painfully, the way he play-acted a scene that never should have starred them. 

“If that’s how you really felt, though, like, there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way,” Sehun says even though it feels like a knife to the fucking gut. “If you were being honest, then that’s all I ask. If you don’t ever want to pursue a committed relationship, then like, that’s what I want to hear.” 

“But that’s not how I felt, though. That’s not how I _feel_.”

He puts his hand on Sehun’s, and warmth zips through Sehun where they touch. 

“Why would you lie?” Sehun asks. “Why would you say something you didn’t mean?” 

“It scares me, obviously,” Baekhyun says. “I don’t like liking you so much.” He lowers his head, hides his smile. “I don’t like that you could hurt me if you wanted to.” 

“You know that I wouldn’t.” 

Baekhyun looks up at him. 

“I know. And that’s why we’re here.” 

“You gotta be sure,” Sehun says, aiming his words to the ground, too scared to look into Baekhyun’s eyes. “I… I mean, I don’t want this to be something I guilt you into. I don’t want you to feel pressured.” 

“That’s not how I feel.” 

Baekhyun squeezes Sehun’s hand, and Sehun feels stupid tears welling in his eyes. He quickly blinks them away, but when he speaks, looking into Baekhyun’s eyes, all the tight emotion gives him away anyway. 

“How do you feel, then?” Sehun asks, serving up his heart on a silver platter. 

“I love you,” Baekhyun says. “And I don’t know if that will always be true, I can’t promise I’m always gonna wanna… I don’t know, I don’t know if I’ll wanna get married and shit, but I… I wanna try this. With you. I wanna try to open up like this. Because, I don’t know…,” and he looks off, looking at the birds in the trees, the way they fly, “you make me feel like it’ll be okay. You make me feel like it’d be worth it to try.” 

Stupid, blind hope seizes through Sehun’s whole body, and he wants with all of his heart to lean across the bench, take Baekhyun’s face in his hand and kiss him until he can taste the sweetness of the words. 

“Are you sure?” he asks. 

“I’m sure,” Baekhyun says. 

“All right,” Sehun says, and he laces their fingers together, squeezes Baekhyun’s hand tightly. “Then we’ll start from the beginning, okay?” 

“Okay. Where’s the beginning?” 

“How about I walk you home?” Sehun offers. 

Baekhyun’s eyes go starry even though it’s still too early to see the constellations. 

“I’d really like that,” he says.

Sehun stands, pulls Baekhyun up by the hand, and as the night settles, they walk blocks and blocks, hands still tangled. They catch up on the goings-on of their offices, they discuss recipes they’ve tried, and just like that, the weeks apart fall away like nothing. 

When they stop in front of Baekhyun’s building, Baekhyun looks up at him. 

“What, uh, what now?” Baekhyun says, and then, sheepishly, “Sorry, you’re going to have to walk me through this step by step.” 

Sehun smiles, crowds into his space, and folds him into a hug, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“That’s okay,” Sehun says. “I don’t mind.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Over the course of the next several weeks, Sehun slowly introduces new relationship dynamics to Baekhyun, including but not limited to emotional honesty and intimacy, open lines of communication, and discussions of trust, how they can build it.

“So, like, is that really it?” Baekhyun asks, and he is seated on Sehun’s countertop as he makes blueberry pancakes, swinging his feet like a little kid. “Is it really that easy?” 

“I mean, if you like each other, yeah,” Sehun says. “Granted, there will be some bumps along the way, like you find out things that bother you about the other person, but as long as you, like, are generally pretty nice and you work on stuff, you develop and grow… it’s pretty easy.” 

“Well, like, just as a for instance, what happens if I get like, super possessive?” Baekhyun asks, and he jumps down from the counter, weaving an arm around Sehun’s waist. “If, like, I realize I don’t want any other boys to even look at you. Ooh, what if I get _really_ jealous, really easily and I make you delete other people’s numbers? Like, I try and delete Chanyeol’s number?” 

Sehun gingerly flips the pancake, and Baekhyun _ooh_’s and _ahh_'s annoyingly at his side. “Chanyeol would threaten to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole.” 

“And I have told you multiple times, whatever kink shit he is into, we will not be discussing that nor will we be engaging with it,” Baekhyun says, and he pokes Sehun in the side until Sehun looks at him, grinning. “Hi.” 

Sehun shuts off the fire, turns, takes Baekhyun in his arms. 

“Hi,” Sehun says, and he leans forward, kisses Baekhyun sweetly. “Are you gonna be a jealous mess?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Good,” Sehun says, and he kisses Baekhyun again, longer, with a little more heat. “God. You are—”

“What?” Baekhyun teases, biting his lip as he smiles. “What am I?” 

“Completely fucking terrible,” Sehun says, and Baekhyun grips the ends of Sehun’s hair threateningly. “And I like that!”

“Better.” 

He kisses Sehun again, up on his tiptoes, and it feels so natural, being here like this on a Sunday morning. They stand there in his kitchen, wrapped up in each other, and Sehun thinks it’s good that, for now, it really is that simple. 

“Okay, feed me, big boy,” Baekhyun says, his mouth against Sehun’s. “I require much sustenance, and evolution has made it so that I flock to the alpha male who proves that he can provide for me.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, pushing Baekhyun out of his arms with a delighted giggle. They move away from each other then, ricocheting in opposite directions as he plates Baekhyun’s pancakes, delivering them to the table where Baekhyun waits eagerly.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
There are many days when it feels no different than before, when they were amorphously drifting between casual and something more, and then Baekhyun does something sweet, completely flips the script on Sehun.

He’s in the office when Baekhyun calls, just about to head out to get lunch, so he picks up, about to ask if something’s wrong. 

“Yo,” Baekhyun says. 

“Uh, hi,” Sehun says. “Are you dying?” 

“No? What, do I have to be dying to talk to you? I’ll have you know that our relationship began on the phone.” 

Sehun smiles, grabs his wallet.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he says. “To what do I owe this pleasure, hm?” 

“Come downstairs, I’m waiting by the very nice doorman.” 

“What?” 

“Are you deaf?” Baekhyun asks. “God, that’s gonna prove challenging for us, don’t you think? Ah well, nevertheless, our love shall persevere.” 

“Are you seriously downstairs?” Sehun asks. “Why?” 

“So I can buy you lunch, babe,” Baekhyun answers. “Duh.” 

Sehun’s heart flutters in his chest, wild wings beating against the wind. 

“Is it my birthday?” 

“No, shut up,” Baekhyun says. “Hustle, I took a half-hour for this shit.” 

Sehun puts a little hitch in his giddy-up, and he makes it to the elevator just before it's about to close, flooded with people. When the doors open on the bottom floor, he sees Baekhyun speaking to the doorman outside, and his face goes a little red with just how fucking much he loves this moron. 

“Hey,” he says just as he gets through the revolving door. “Waiting long?” 

“No, not long at all,” Baekhyun says. “Me and my new friend Joseph were talking about the Philadelphia 76ers.” 

“Trust the process,” Sehun chimes. 

“Have a nice lunch,” Baekhyun says to Joseph, pulling Sehun off by the wrist as he leads him down the block. “Hi there.” 

“Hi,” Sehun says, and the noise of Center City sounds like a song, the perfect backdrop to the moment. “Didn’t expect to see you today.” 

The hot wind blows, and Sehun watches as it ruffles Baekhyun’s hair prettily. 

“Just… couldn’t fuckin’ wait until the weekend.” 

“No?” 

“No,” Baekhyun says, and he smiles at Sehun as they walk. “Now, onto business… you good with DanDan? I’m fucking starving.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Part of taking it slow is not immediately jumping back into bed with one another, not until everyone is on the same page, not until they have figured out what they mean to each other.

They are in Baekhyun’s apartment after a new restaurant, and it gets too heated too quickly, Sehun putting distance between them once he feels Baekhyun hard against his front. 

“Come on,” Baekhyun whines, and he huddles back into Sehun’s space, absently grinding against him. “We did all the things. We talked about love languages. We got tested. We practically held hands as we got blood drawn. This is as gay as it gets.” 

“Did you delete Grindr?” Sehun asks, and the response is very quiet. “My point stands.” 

“I’ll delete it!” Baekhyun screeches. “I promise!” 

“When?” 

“Uh, tomorrow?” 

“Not, like, today?” Sehun prompts.

“But… _my boys_,” Baekhyun says, and he looks at his phone longingly. 

“Okay, ContraPoints, enough.” 

Sehun turns, makes to walk out, because he can’t lie, it does hurt to still hear the pinging every so often. He’s learned to trust that Baekhyun _isn’t_ going behind his back, but it does make him think. Maybe he should talk to Chanyeol about it, mayb— 

“I’m goofing, I’m goofing,” Baekhyun says, and he spins Sehun back around. He angles himself so that they both are looking at the screen, and then he unlocks his phone and deletes the application just like that, and Sehun is left in a state of shock. “You think they matter to me? Come on. Not even a little, especially if it means I get to eat your ass on the regular.” 

“Oh my god,” Sehun groans. “This is not what I meant when I said honesty.” 

“This is as honest as it gets! Believe me!” He shoves his phone back into his pocket, throws his arms back around Sehun’s body, head resting against Sehun’s shoulder. “You believe me, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, I do,” Sehun sighs. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not a big deal, I just—” 

Baekhyun pulls back, smiles at him. 

“If it matters to you, if it hurts you, then it’s a big deal,” Baekhyun says. “I wanna do this right. If I’m gonna do it, then I wanna do it correctly. And if that means getting rid of _my boys_…,” and he is swiftly interrupted by Sehun’s kiss, shutting him up before pushing him off to the bedroom.  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
They go on outings almost every Sunday morning, sometimes to the Italian Market, quoting _Always Sunny_, picking the stickers off fresh pears. Sometimes they go to a matinee movie, sharing a big bucket of popcorn, their hands brushing like they’re in some sort of romantic comedy. Sometimes they get Americanos at Uncle Bobbie’s, a bagel split between them if they didn’t eat beforehand. They scour the shelves for new books, and oftentimes, they spend a few hours when they can.

That Sunday, it is particularly lazy, though.

They are in bed, and Sehun just stares at him, unable to look away. It’s the feeling you get when you pass a particularly beautiful painting in a museum and you have to stop, stand in front of it, tilt your head to the side as you think _Who could have possibly made something so wonderful?_

Baekhyun turns onto his stomach, face pressed into the pillow, and he smiles at Sehun. 

“What are you staring at?” he asks. 

“You,” Sehun says plainly. 

He reaches out, strokes his knuckles down Baekhyun’s spine, and he watches the way Baekhyun’s body shivers, the way he shuts his eyes and his smile widens. 

“This is nice,” Baekhyun says, and he opens his eyes, doesn’t hide. “I like you so much.” 

“Yeah, I like you too,” Sehun says, and he cuddles in close, their noses brushing against each other. “A lot.” 

Baekhyun’s brow knits, and he turns, faces Sehun, kisses him softly. 

“No, I... I mean, I love you.” 

Sehun’s heart does something funny in his chest. The summer is dying once more, a year plus change since the first time he heard Baekhyun’s voice, and now they are so different. 

“Good,” Sehun says. “Because I love you too.”  
  


⚬ ⚬ ⚬

  
  
Baekhyun makes a big deal of their date nights whenever possible, and the more they sink into each other, the more he blossoms. He takes initiative, plans everything, makes the reservations, leads them on the moonlit walks, buys Sehun ice cream from the little carts if they’re still open by the time they walk by.

Baekhyun likes it, likes all of it. He likes what the commitment entails. He likes the promise of tomorrow, likes the comfort and dependability. He thrives in it. This, though, has been a trial run. None of the labels, none of the commitment. 

The autumn is creeping in, and Baekhyun shivers as they walk back to his apartment, full from a meal that Sehun could hardly taste with how hard he was staring at Baekhyun. 

“You cold?” Sehun asks, and he takes off his jacket, rolling his eyes when Baekhyun takes it greedily. “God, was that just a ploy to get my shit from me?” 

“It’s super romantic, and I’ve always wanted that to happen to me,” Baekhyun says, and he starts to thread an arm through. “Ever since I saw Chris Hemsworth do it in _Thor_.” 

“If it’s good enough for Chris Hemsworth...”

Baekhyun grins up at him as he pulls the jacket, a little pooling of fabric at the hands. It’s cute, it’s too much, and Sehun tries not to let his face shift too much at how much he likes the way Baekhyun looks wrapped up in his clothes. 

“Come on,” Baekhyun says. 

“What?” 

“When are you gonna ask me again?” They approach Baekhyun’s building, and Baekhyun pulls them to a stop. “I mean, we’re moving too slow now.” 

“Too slow?” Sehun prods. “You were the one with the label hang-ups, and now you wanna start hurtling towards eternity?” 

“Yes,” Baekhyun says happily, and he takes Sehun’s hands in his. “Let’s hurtle together.” 

“Fine. Be my boyfriend.” 

“Shut up,” Baekhyun says, furrowing his brow. He balls up a hand, punches Sehun in the shoulder. “Be serious.” 

“I’m serious!” 

“I know you are,” Baekhyun says, and he steps forward, kisses Sehun on the lips chastely. “You’re just… I don’t understand you.” 

“What don’t you understand?” He smiles at Baekhyun. “I mean, sometimes I feel like I don’t understand you, but then—,” and he looks deeply into Baekhyun’s eyes, tries to search as if it’s buried just beneath the surface, “I just get it.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes go glassy as they stand there, the light from the streetlamps glimmering against the tears. 

“Really?” he asks, voice so hopeful that it breaks Sehun’s heart cleanly in two. 

“Yeah,” Sehun says. “Really.” 

Baekhyun makes a noise of distress as he winds his arms around Sehun’s neck, kissing him much more passionately this time around. He makes these soft noises of pleasure, and Sehun returns them, shares in them. He holds Baekhyun in his hands, one on the small of his back, one on the side of his neck, and he wants… he wants to hold them both together. Wants to bind them so tightly that the fastens can’t ever come loose. 

“Ask again,” Baekhyun says breathlessly, his lips still resting against Sehun’s. He nuzzles his way into the crook of Sehun’s neck, and he squeezes his arms around Sehun. “Please. Ask me again.” 

Sehun smiles through the words. “Will you be my boyfriend?” He hugs Baekhyun close. “You gonna answer this time? Or are you gonna leave me hanging?” 

“I’ll answer,” Baekhyun mutters, and he presses a wet kiss to Sehun’s neck. “I’ll be your boyfriend. If you’ll be _my_ boyfriend.” 

“Yeah,” Sehun says, grinning so hard that he thinks he might sprain something. “Yeah, I think that’ll be okay.” 

Baekhyun pulls back, stares into Sehun’s eyes. Sehun moves their bodies, sways them from side to side in a gentle rhythm. 

“Yeah?” Baekhyun says. “So we’re official?” 

“As official as official gets,” Sehun replies, and they tangle their hands together. “Wow. Our first night together, huh?” 

“We have spent many a night together, sir.” 

“Yeah, but this is the first as, like _boyfriends_,” Sehun says. “Hey! Your first relationship! That calls for celebration!” 

“That calls for _roleplay_. Sexy maid roleplay!” 

Baekhyun pulls him off towards the door to the building, and Sehun wants to chastise him, but he can’t.

All the happiness inside him, all the love displaces everything else, the water of him rushing out as Baekhyun rushes in.

**Author's Note:**

> ahh, there it is! to whoever prompted this, i sincerely hope you enjoyed! i kinda went nuts with it, but i love developing relationships, so i hope u do too!!! lol 
> 
> anyway, if you got this far, i hope you enjoyed! thank you so much for reading!
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/okamiwind) | [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/okamiwind)


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